


Love and Rage

by roslinadamasinequanon



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Children, Drama, F/M, Family, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-03
Updated: 2007-01-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 05:11:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 79,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14784171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roslinadamasinequanon/pseuds/roslinadamasinequanon
Summary: In this installment Abbey and Jed must relive an emotionally devastating time in their marriage as Abbey is being stalked by a man who raped and brutalized her in the past and who is now determined to get to her again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

"If you want it, you have to ask Mommy for it," Abbey said. She was kneeling beside the big tub in her and Jed's bathroom and was in the process of bathing and playing with the twins. Nicky was busy dunking his little rubber ducky underwater and giggling when it popped back up to the surface. Aislinn, on the other hand, was only interested in the light up "Little Mermaid" doll Zoey had given her for Christmas, which was being held by her mother just out of her reach. 

"Mmm…uh…uh," she fussed and kicked her legs in frustration as she reached her hands to try and get it. 

"Come on, Aislinn, ask me for it. You can do it. Say Mama. Ma…ma," Abbey drew out the word. Aislinn's little bottom lip began to quiver and tears began to pool in her eyes. Abbey relented immediately. 

"Don't cry, sweetheart. It's OK." She handed her the doll and ran her hand over her daughter's cheek. She then turned her attention to her son. 

"How about you, Nicky?" she asked. "Can you say Ma…ma?" Nicholas flashed her a big smile and splashed both his hands in the water, soaking Abbey's face and the front of her shirt. He gave a giggle at his mother's gasp of surprise. 

"You think that's funny, you little imp?" She reached out a finger to tickle under his arm and he began to laugh helplessly as he tried to squirm away from her finger. 

"Ma…ma." 

Abbey stopped tickling Nicholas and turned back to her daughter, who had been jealous at the loss of her mother's attention. 

"What did you say, sweetie?" Abbey stared at her baby girl. "Say it again. Say it for Mama." 

"Ma…ma," Aislinn repeated, pushing her doll at Abbey. It was obvious she wanted her mother to continue to play with her. 

"You did it!" Abbey squealed with delight. She clapped her hands and lifted the slippery, wet baby into her arms for a kiss. 

"What is all the ruckus in here?" Jed asked. He entered the bathroom still tying his tie. When he looked up from his task, his eyes widened and then a smile curved on his lips. Abbey was kneeling in a puddle of water wearing a pair of faded jeans and a Greenpeace T-shirt, both of which were soaking wet. She held a naked, wet Aislinn to her chest without a towel, and Nicholas was splashing her from behind. A foamy dab of the bubble gum scented bubble bath dotted the tip of her nose. She looked about 20 years old again and it was a toss up, at the moment, as to who was more adorable – his wife or his kids. 

"You guys have made quite a mess in here," he affected a stern voice. 

"We're just playing." Abbey wrinkled her nose at him. "Come here and listen to this. Aislinn, do it for Daddy. Say Mama." Aislinn eyed her father with wide hazel eyes but didn't say a word. "Come on, Ash. Show Daddy what a big girl you are. You can do it. Ma…ma." Aislinn turned to look at Abbey and slapped her little hands on her cheeks. 

"Ma…ma," she gurgled. 

"Jumping Jehosaphat!" Jed exclaimed with a deep laugh of parental delight "What a BIG girl you are." He stepped forward and kissed the top of his daughter's head. "Now what about 'Daddy'? You can say it. Da…Da," he drew it out as Abbey had and rubbed his rough shaven jaw against Aislinn's cheek which always caused her to laugh. She patted his cheeks with her little hands and gave him the giggle he was looking for. "Come on Sunshine. Da…Da." 

"Mama," Aislinn said, and buried her face into Abbey's neck. She glanced at her father bashfully as if she were teasing him. 

"Oh my God, she's flirting with you," Abbey laughed. 

"She is her mother's daughter," Jed grinned, kissing the bubbles off Abbey's nose. 

"What is THAT supposed to mean?" Abbey sniffed. 

"It means her mother is one big tease and she wrote the book on flirting." 

"I may tease, but I always come through in the end, don't I?" Abbey gave him the same sidelong flirtatious gaze his daughter just had; and, ignoring the water, he laughed and pulled his two wet girls into his arms. 

"That you do, Doc. That you do." 

* * * * 

The senior staff entered the Oval Office for their usual morning meeting. All noticed right away the darker patches on the President's suit coat and gave each other puzzled looks. Jed ignored the looks and got right down to business. As the meeting came to a close, the four men looked expectantly at CJ. She knew it was going to come down to this. When the President was angry or upset, it was Leo who had to bite the bullet and find out what was going on. However, when it came to the weird stuff, and lord knows there was a lot of weird stuff, it always came down on her. She knew her duty and, like a good little warrior, she approached the President's desk as the males tried to beat a hasty retreat. 

"Sir, I'm not sure if you are aware of this or not but you have dark splotches all over your suit coat." 

"I'm aware." 

"You have a meeting with the Danish ambassador. There will be press. They'll want to know why." 

"It'll be dry by then." 

"It's water?" She noticed the guys had paused in the doorway, hoping to hear the explanation. 

"CJ, do you want to know why I have wet splotches on my suit coat?" He lifted his brow and CJ had to smile. Her boss knew her curiosity very well. 

"Yes," she admitted, her grin growing wider. 

"Abbey was giving the babies a bath this morning." 

"And you made her angry and she splashed you?" 

"No, why would you assume I made her angry?" 

"You do that sometimes." CJ bit her lip to keep the laughter from erupting. 

"As a matter of fact, Claudia Jean, your goddaughter said her first word this morning and I gave her and her wet mother a very big hug. THAT is how I got all wet." 

"She said her first word?" CJ's smile turned to one of pride and excitement. 

"Tell me it wasn't 'Jackass'," Leo smirked from the doorway. 

"It was 'Mama', if you must know. But I still have Nicky. If I can work on him on the sly, who knows, maybe 'Daddy' will be his first word." 

"It's important to have goals," Josh stated. 

"When you have children, Joshua, you will understand the importance of these first moments." 

"Sir." Charlie stepped in. "I hate to interrupt this little coffee klatch, but Agent Butterfield needs to see you. He said it's important." 

"Send him in, Charlie." 

Jed slid his glasses off his nose and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He and the staff had been working on overdrive with the upcoming State of the Union address around the corner. A State of the Union that could make or break his re-election bid. 

Ron strode into the office with his usual confidence, but he did have to summon some inner reserves before he started to speak to the President. Just talking about his family involved in kidnapping scenarios could set Josiah Bartlet off like a roman candle on the fourth of July, so he knew the reaction would be magnified when it came to any actual threat. 

"Ron," Jed said expectantly. "Did you come here to stare at me or did you have something to say?" 

"Yes," Ron cleared his throat. "I have an update on those photos sent to your wife's father. We did a handwriting analysis and found some matches with letters we intercepted on their way to the First Lady." 

"Matches?" Jed questioned. "You mean this guy sent a letter to her before this?" 

"Not _a_ letter, sir. Many letters." 

Ron handed his boss a folder. Jed took the folder from him and opened it feeling a sickening jolt when dozens of letters fell out. Letters didn't actually describe them. They were notes. Short love notes to his wife. He pushed his glasses back on and began to read them. 

>   
>  __
> 
> Dearest Abigail my love, 
> 
> I watched you on the news tonight. You looked so beautiful in that peach colored gown. It made your hair gleam like a flame. You know how much I love your hair and how much I love you. Never forget just how much you mean to me, Abigail. 
> 
> My beautiful Abigail, 
> 
> The black dress was cut MUCH too low. You know I have asked you not to reveal your breasts like that. It cheapens you and you are not a cheap woman. 
> 
> Miss High and Mighty Abigail, 
> 
> Why do you defy me, my love? I have repeatedly told you not to wear such short skirts. You know I think you have gorgeous legs, but you shouldn't be flashing them at every man in America. Those legs were meant to be wrapped around my waist, not to live in the fantasies of other men.

Ron watched the color fill Jed's face and the muscle in his jaw began to tick as it did when he was trying to control his rage. But still, he read on. 

>   
>  __
> 
> Dearest defiant bitch Abigail, 
> 
> You kissed HIM in public, Abigail. I know it was just for show, but I have warned you about that. You love ME and only ME. Do not allow yourself to touch or be touched by THAT man ever again.

Jed threw the letters on his desk with disgust and anger. 

"Who the HELL is sending these?!" he exploded. "I want to see the son of a bitch. Do you have him custody?" 

"No, sir," Ron swallowed. He knew the blow up was just around the corner now. "The profilers are working as we speak." 

"You're just working on a profile NOW?" The President's tone was more one of pissed incredulity. "How long has she been getting these letters?" 

"About a year and half." 

"And you're just getting started now? That's just fucking great, Ron. What the hell are you people here for if not to protect my family from these wackos? Jesus, why didn't you start a profile on him right away?" 

"Sir, the letters came spaced months apart. There really wasn't anything to link them and no specific threats were made. To be honest, these letters were nothing compared to some of the ones that came through. If I showed you how many love letters like this she gets, you would understand that these wouldn't exactly stand out." 

"Yeah, yeah so you've said," Jed dismissed him. 

"Part of our job is also to protect you from worrying about these crackpots. If the First Lady was shown all the love, crazy, or obscene letters she gets, she might not be able to go out and function at all. It is our job to figure out who is harmless and who is threatening. When letters are particularly threatening or violent, we try to track down the person who sent it." 

Ron didn't even like to think of how many kidnapping threats they had had to weed through since the birth of Nicholas and Aislinn. 

"Well, you sure missed the boat on this one." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Ron." Jed dug his fingers through his hair with impotent frustration. "This guy, he acts like he KNOWS her." 

"That's not uncommon of people with delusions. Once we started going back and pulling his letters, we realized there is a pattern. This guy fluctuates between love and rage toward your wife, and we can see the letters are definitely getting angrier. Obviously seeing you…" Ron looked at the carpet embarrassed as he tried to search for the right word "…together in the barn sent him into a fury, and that was why he took the risk to send those pictures. It's also obvious that he doesn't want her having anything to do with you." 

"I'm her HUSBAND!" Jed's bellow filled the Oval Office, startling even Ron, who was used to such outbursts. 

"Yes, you are." Ron stayed calm, trying to defuse the President's temper. "And he loves her." 

"Well, he can't have her," Jed snapped. "I want you to find this Sicko and I want you to find him fast. I also want security beefed up on my wife." 

"Already taken care of, sir. Should we call the First Lady over and inform her about this, or would you like me to go to the East Wing and talk to her?" 

"No," Jed said tightly. "I don't want her to know about this." 

"Sir, she's going to notice the increased members of her detail. You know how she is about security in the first place." 

Jed sighed, knowing that Ron was right. Abbey would demand to know why she had extra agents, and he didn't want her finding out from them. 

"I'll tell her tonight – in private." 

"Yes, sir." Ron turned to leave. 

"Ron," Jed bit out. 

"Yes." He turned back and saw that the President was slouching back in his chair as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

"Don’t let anything happen to my wife." 

"We won't, sir." 

Jed sank back in his chair still reeling from those letters. How in the hell was he going to tell Abbey that there was a man out there watching her every move? A man who believed she belonged to him. How could he re-open those old wounds that had taken so long to heal? Just a few hours ago, she had been kneeling on the floor of the bathroom laughing with delight as their daughter said her first word and now… now, he was going to have dredge up emotions from the past that were much better left dormant. 

* * * * 

"Here is the revised speech for Friday at the National Health Forum." Lily handed the speech over the desk to Abbey and sat while her boss perused it. Abbey was making notations in the margins when the phone rang. The only time it rang in her office was when it was her private line, and the only people who had access to her private line were her family and very close friends. 

"Excuse me," she said to Lily. She took her glasses off and lifted the receiver. Lily stood to leave and give Abbey privacy for her phone call. 

"Hello," Abbey answered. At the sound of her voice, Hughes' throat constricted and his heart began to pound. All these years and she was finally right there on the other end of the phone line. "Hello…Who is this?" 

Lily paused in the doorway at the strain in Abbey's voice. 

Heavy breathing broke the silence. "Is somebody there?" Abbey questioned. 

"Who is it?" Lily mouthed. 

Abbey shrugged and was just about to hang up when she heard him speak. 

"I want you," the voice was ragged and muffled as if it were being disguised. 

"What? Who is this?" 

Lily frowned at the alarm in Abbey's voice. 

"You heard me. I want you naked under me. I'm going to run my tongue…" Abbey slammed the receiver down. 

"What was that all about?" Lily asked. 

"THAT was an obscene phone call." She tried to smile indifferently, but her hand was shaking. 

"YOU got an obscene phone call. How did someone get your private line?" 

"I don't know. I'm sure they didn't know it was me. It was probably just some kids dialing random numbers." 

"Do you want me to call Anita in?" 

"No, I don't think we need to involve the agents in this." Abbey knew if the agents were involved it would get right back to Jed and she didn't want him worried over some harmless prank. 

"You're due to meet the President in fifteen minutes to attend the Vasily Baronov poetry reading at the Kennedy Center. Will you at least tell him?" 

"Lily, you don't know my husband very well, do you? Telling him something like this would just turn him into an absolute bear. It was just a random call; I'm not going to blow it all out of proportion." 

"If you're sure, Ma'am." 

Lily turned to leave but she was still uneasy. She had heard about the pictures sent to her boss' father, and she had seen the look on the First Lady's face during that phone call. She had been the First Lady's chief of staff for three years now. She had seen her through the transition from civilian to First Lady, through dozens of overseas trips, through the President's near death by shooting, through her pregnancy and first year with the twins, and she was more than a boss to her. She was a friend. Abbey's standards were high, and she could be tough and difficult, but she was also fair and kind and interested in forming relationships with her staff. While the President was notorious for forgetting names, his wife knew everyone by name. Lily didn't know how many secretaries and staffers Abbey had tried to set up on blind dates, or how many office birthday parties she had planned for the people who worked for her. Because of this, her staff was incredibly loyal and protective of her, which was how Lily felt now. She knew what had happened in the First Lady's past. Abbey had been very matter of fact about it, but she was also a master at hiding her emotions. Because of that, Lily knew, despite her words to the contrary, she had to have been affected by that phone call. 

* * * * 

Marcus Hughes popped the blank tape into the VCR, flipped the channel to C-SPAN, hit record and sat back with his beer to watch the Vasily Baronov speech and poetry reading. He was hardly a fan of the Russian dissident and poet who was now touring America. He was watching because, according to the program guide, the President and First Lady would be in attendance. He felt his body tighten with anticipation as the presidential motorcade pulled up to the Kennedy Center. He watched Abbey step out of the limo in a sleek back dress, her cinnamon colored hair flowing over her shoulders. God, she was gorgeous, so classy and elegant. He could spend hours just looking at her, and sometimes he did. Sometimes, he watched his tapes all-night or stared at the pictures of her on his walls all day. But it was at night, when he slept, that it was the best. At night, his erotic dreams were filled with her, of what he wanted to do with her, of what he WOULD do with her. Soon, very soon. He touched the screen of the TV. She was so close to him and yet so far away. 

Then in a flash, all the love that encompassed his heart for her disappeared into a wave of rage so strong it nearly brought him to his knees. He watched HIM circle around the limo and the way Abigail stretched out her hand to HIM. He watched as HE took her cloak from an agent and wrapped her in the satin material. His blood pulsed furiously as she smiled up at HIM and tiptoed up to kiss HIM lightly on the lips. He had warned her not to have any sexual contact with HIM. Why was she defying him like this? His anger burned and he felt a tremendous need to vent that anger. Tonight. 

* * * * 

It had been a long day and once back from the Baronov poetry reading, Jed and Abbey had dined privately and changed into their nightclothes for an early night. They lay stretched out on the couch in front of the warm flames of the fireplace, each giving a sleepy baby a bottle. 

Jed tried to come up with the words to tell Abbey about the letters, but each time he got his nerve up, he glanced over at how peaceful she looked. She was leaning back on the cushions her feet against his hip. Nicholas lay against her breasts sucking half-heartedly on his bottle. His eyes were barely able to stay open as he fought to keep from falling asleep and Abbey was stoking his silky blond head absently. Instead of bringing up the subjects they should be talking about, Jed talked to her about the State of the Union, and Abbey talked of her plans for the twin's upcoming first birthday party. 

"Marcy and Lucy…" 

"Who?" Jed asked confused. 

"My two secretaries," Abbey shook her head. She never understood why her husband had such a hard time with names. It wasn't the MS; he'd always been this way. She guessed his mind was so filled with everything else it just couldn't compute names as well. "As I was saying, Marcy and Lucy are going to bring their kids over for the party. Lucy's daughter Madison just turned a year…." The ringing of their phone interrupted Abbey. "I'll get it." She transferred Nicholas over beside where his sister slept in Jed's arms and moved to answer the phone. 

"Hello." 

"You like showing off those legs, don't you, Abigail. You like making every man in America pant after you." 

Jed watched the smile fade from Abbey's lips. 

"What? Who is this?" she demanded in a shaking voice that caused Jed to look at her with a frown. 

"I won't be panting for much longer, Abigail. I'm going to give it to you for every man in America." 

Jed watched Abbey's face go ashen gray as she slammed the receiver down. He was already laying the twins on the couch to go to her when he heard her trembling voice. 

"He knew my name," she said, trying to catch the breath she had been holding. "God, Jed, he knew my name this time." 

"Abbey, what are you talking about?" He gripped her wrists looking into her panicked eyes. 

"The man on the phone. He called me in my office this afternoon. I thought it was a random prank call. But this was the same guy and he called me Abigail. It wasn't random, Jed." 

"Abbey, calm down and talk to me. What did he say this afternoon?" 

"It was just a typical obscene phone call. He wanted to see me naked, told me what he wanted to do with his tongue. But he NEVER used my name." 

"DAMMIT, why didn't you tell me this?" his eyes blazed with anger. 

"Jed, please don't." It was the pained tone of her voice that caused his anger to dissipate. That and how she almost crumpled in his arms, resting her forehead against his chest and gripping handfuls of his shirt. It completely undid him and overwhelmed him with the urge to hold her in his arms and protect her. 

"I'm sorry, Baby." He kissed the top of her head. "What did he say tonight?" 

"He called me Abigail and said that I like to show off my legs and make men pant after me." 

Jed sensed there was more and tipped her chin to look deep into her eyes. 

"Is that all?" 

"No," she lowered her eyelashes. "He told me he was going to give it to me for every man in America." Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. 

"Oh Christ, Abbey. Oh Honey, I'm sorry," he held her tightly to his chest. 

"How did anyone get this number, Jed?" 

"I don't know. But we need to talk." He moved to pour Abbey a snifter of brandy, which she accepted and took a long swallow of. She felt the alcohol burn a path down her throat and immediately begin to work on her frazzled nerves. Jed took her hand and led her back to the fire. They glanced down on the sleeping twins and with nonverbal tacit agreement, decided to leave the babies there. Instead, Jed sat in the overstuffed chair and pulled Abbey down on to his lap. Abbey laid her head against his shoulder feeling safer by the moment. 

"We need to tell Ron about this," Jed started. 

"I know," Abbey agreed. "It could be the same guy who sent the pictures." 

"About those pictures. Ron came to me this morning with some information." 

"Do they know who it was?" 

"Not yet, but they did find that it wasn't the first time he has sent something to you. They found dozens of love notes that he has been sending you for about a year and a half." 

"Love notes?" Abbey was stunned. 

"Notes telling you how beautiful you are and how much he wants you. And notes warning you." 

"Warning me of what?" 

"To stop dressing provocatively and…to stop touching me and letting me touch you." 

"What?" she pulled back to look into his eyes. "That's crazy. He must be crazy." 

"That's the general assumption." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

Jed looked deeply into her beautiful hazel eyes – eyes that could be flashing emerald green when she was angry, pale gray when she was sad, brittle blue when her desire was great, and smoky when that passion had been satiated, and opted for complete honesty. 

"I just didn't know how," he admitted. "With everything that happened before, I simply didn't know how." 

"It's OK," she tucked her head under his chin. 

"Please don't be worried, Abbey. They're going to catch this guy and until they do, you have the best security in the world. I had your detail beefed up today. I won't let anything happen to you." 

"OK," she nuzzled into his neck and curled her legs up letting her husband cuddle and comfort her. She felt safe curled in his arms. Jed held her tightly, not knowing what to say. He knew that phone call had scared Abbey more than she was saying. He had been prepared for a fight over the beefed up security, but the fact that she had simply accepted it was a testament to her fear. 

* * * * 

Abbey stepped out into the bright winter sunshine and tossed her purple wool cape around her shoulders. Thanks to the glare, she heard the crowd before she saw it. 

"Abbey! Abbey!" they were calling her – these crowds of people that lined the streets wherever she went. It was always the same and it still made her feel uncomfortable to a certain degree. She wasn't sure what exactly she had done to draw such complete adulation and, in some cases, fanaticism. She had seen people knocked down in the attempt to get close to her and shake her hand. It was the same for Jed. Interestingly enough though, he seemed to be more comfortable with this excess of emotion than she was. But, while it puzzled her, she knew it was expected of her to approach the rope line and shake a few hands before getting back in the limo. Resisting the urge to put on dark sunglasses, Abbey gave the crowd her famous bright smile, the smile that had graced dozens of magazine covers, and started toward that churning heaving line of people. As she approached, the cheering grew louder and the people began to strain over the rope in an effort to touch her or gain her attention. 

It wasn't long before Abbey's arms were laden with flowers and she turned to Lily who summoned a couple staffers over to take the flowers so she could continue on. As she made her way down the line, Abbey noticed an elderly woman in a wheelchair holding a single yellow rose. Some teenage girls who were reaching to shake her hand were obscuring her. Abbey politely shook their hands then ducked under the rope to kneel by the elderly woman. 

"This is for you," the woman said. "I read that you love roses, especially yellow ones." 

"Yes, I do. They're so cheery, don't you think?" Abbey smiled and took the flower. 

"If you don't mind me saying so, you're even prettier in person." 

"Well, thank you very much. I don't mind at all." Abbey felt a tug on her skirt and looked down to see a little girl of about five holding a stuffed bear and a small little baby doll. 

"Mrs. First Lady," she said. 

"Hello." Abbey went down on one knee in front of her. "What's your name?" 

"Elizabeth." 

"I have a daughter named Elizabeth. I really love that name, it's very pretty." 

"My Mommy said you have a little baby girl, too, don't you?" 

"Yes, her name is Aislinn and she is almost one. I bet this is for her, isn't it." Abbey accepted the doll the girl was handing to her. 

"Uh huh. It's for her birthday. And this teddy bear is for your little boy, 'cause boys don't like dollies." 

"You're right, they don't. But I bet Nicholas will love this little teddy bear. Thank you so much, Elizabeth." Abbey kissed the top of the little girl's head and stood to shake her mother's hand. 

"She's adorable," Abbey told her. 

"Thank you, ma'am, but she can be a handful." 

"I know how that goes," Abbey commiserated. "Once the twins started crawling, we had to childproof the whole White House." 

"It'll be worse when they start walking." 

"Don't remind me." Abbey groaned. 

She was still smiling and chatting as she reached her hand out to the next person in line. She felt the person's firm rough grip and knew right away that it was a man. While she said good-bye to Elizabeth's mother, the man released his strong hold and she felt his middle finger caress the palm of her hand. Startled, Abbey tugged her hand away and turned abruptly. When she did so, she came eye to eye with the man who had for years played such an integral part in her nightmares – Marcus Hughes. In an instant, it all came back to her. The slaps, the hands and mouth tearing at her flesh, the smell of his fetid breath as he tried to kiss her, the ripping of her clothes, and the stunning pain and degradation she had felt when he pushed his body into her unwilling one and raped her. 

"Hello, Abigail," he said with an insolent smile. "Remember me? Cause I sure do remember you. ALL of you." His eyes moved with lascivious intent over her body and came to rest on her breasts. 

Abbey couldn't move, she couldn't breathe. The noise of the crowd sounded muffled as if it was coming down a tunnel and she was quite sure that she was just about to faint. 


	2. Love and Rage

Just as her knees began to buckle, she felt someone grip her arm. 

"Abbey, are you all right?" It was Lily. From a few steps back, she had seen the smiling animation of the First Lady's face taken over by a look of shocked fear. Abbey's eyes focused on her chief of staff. She tried to speak, to warn her about Hughes, but nothing would come out. By the time she had had regained her equilibrium, she turned back to face the one person in the world she truly wanted to see dead. However, the person standing in front her now was a middle-aged woman wanting an autograph. Hughes had disappeared into the crowd at Lily's approach. 

"Abbey…God, you look like you just saw a ghost." 

"I…I need to get to the limo," the softness of her tone belied the frantic undertones. 

"OK," Lily frowned and fell in step beside her. 

Abbey walked as if in a daze. She felt weak and shaky as if she were recovering from having the wind knocked out of her. All she wanted to do was make it to the limo without falling apart. 

As Lily made her excuses to the press, Abbey sank into her seat locking the door the agent had shut behind her. She was finally alone – no longer having to try to keep a steel hold on her emotions, but still unable to completely let them go. She closed her eyes, leaned back into her seat, and pressed a balled up fist into her forehead tapping lightly as if she could stamp out those insidious flashes of memory that were bursting non-stop in her head. Home…All she wanted to do was get home, take a shower and get clean. Just his hand on hers had made her feel dirty again. Had caused her to relive how used and filthy she had felt when he was done with her: the feeling of his saliva on her skin, the smell of his perspiration on her body, the sickening stickiness of him between her thighs. She swallowed convulsively trying to keep down the bile that rose in her throat. 

That was how Lily found her when she opened the door to the limo. Abbey's eyes were closed; she was shaking like a leaf and her skin had a decidedly green tinge to it. Something was definitely wrong here. 

"Abbey, what is it? What's wrong?" 

Abbey opened her eyes as she turned her head toward her chief of staff. Opening her eyes had not been a good idea. 

Lily watched with astonishment as Abbey leaned forward frantically pushing her door open and vomited half in and half out of the limo. 

"Oh, shit," Abbey moaned when she realized she hadn't quite gotten the door open in time. 

"It's OK," Lily said, handing her a handkerchief. "Just lean back and relax. Would you like a breath mint?" 

"Please," Abbey said, leaning her head back against the seat. All she could think about was home. Getting home and scrubbing his disgusting touch from her skin. Getting home and being safe. It was the first time she had ever referred to the White House as home. But then again, home was wherever Jed was and she wanted Jed. Nobody could understand this but Jed. 

Lily handed her the wintergreen Altoid and looked at Abbey suspiciously. "You're not pregnant again, are you?" Her tone was teasing as she tried to lighten Abbey's obvious tension. However, when Abbey didn't respond, Lily's eyes widened, "ARE YOU?" This time it was a true question. 

"Don't even joke," Abbey sighed. "No, Lily, I'm not pregnant again. I must just be coming down with a stomach virus. I really just want to get home. Please tell Anita to make the driver hurry." 

* * * * 

"Mr. President, I had to make a little change in your schedule today," Leo said upon entering the Oval Office. "I squeezed in fifteen minutes with Congresswoman Wyatt." 

"I thought Abbey had a meeting with Andi today?" 

"She did," Andi said, entering the room behind Leo, "but evidently she's sick or something." 

Jed nodded making a mental note to call his wife after the meeting. Abbey was just as stubborn as he was in working through illness, so he knew she must have been feeling really bad if she cancelled her afternoon meetings. 

* * * * 

The phone rang in the First Lady's office. Lucy Stuart, one of Abbey's secretaries, directed the call to Lily Mays. 

"It's the President," she mouthed to Lily. 

"Hello, Mr. President." 

"Hi, Lily. I just met with Congresswoman Wyatt because I'm told that my wife is ill." 

"Yes, sir." 

"You're sure she went back to the residence? Because I'm not getting any answer over there." 

"I'm sure, sir. She might be lying down. I doubt she would have gone anywhere. She was pretty sick." 

Jed frowned. Abbey had seemed fine this morning, no sign of an impending cold or flu. "Migraine?" he asked. 

"Stomach bug," Lily stated. "It was the strangest thing. She was perfectly fine and then it just hit her bad on the rope line. We made it back to the limo just in time for her to be sick." 

"Inside or out?" 

"A little of both." 

Jed sighed deeply. Just what was it with his women puking in limos? 

"Well, thanks, Lily. I guess I'll go on up and check on her." 

"Check on whom?" Leo asked as he strode through the door. 

"Abbey's sick." Jed hung up the phone. "I need a half hour to go and check on her." 

Leo looked at his watch and the schedule in his hand. 

"OK, you've got it," he told him. 

*.* * * 

"Abbey!" Jed called out as he flung open the doors to their bedroom. He had expected to find her lying in their bed with a good book or curled up in her silky bathrobe on the couch in front of the fireplace. She was in neither spot. The room was empty. 

"Abbey?" he called out again. He realized why he wasn't getting an answer as he approached the bathroom and heard the shower running. He stepped into the steamy cauldron shutting the door behind him. A puzzled look crossed his face as he saw Abbey's clothes thrown haphazardly on the bathroom floor. That wasn't like her at all. His wife was a bit of a neat freak and she always took good care of her clothes. 

"Abbey, did you have to puke in the limo?" he teased as he stood by the closed shower door. "You know they're gonna charge us for that clean up." 

Jed frowned when he didn't receive the sarcastic response he had expected. In fact, he didn't get any response. 

"Abbey." He pushed open the shower door. What he saw inside caused a stab of fear to course through him. 

Abbey sat naked on the tub floor, her knees tucked up under her chin and her arms drawn around them. She was rocking herself back and forth as the water from the shower rained down upon her. 

"Abbey. Honey, what's wrong?" he asked. Abbey ignored him still staring vacantly ahead. 

She was numb, completely numb. How could she tell Jed that he was back? That the man in both their nightmares had returned. More than anything, she wanted Jed not to remember or dwell on what he had seen that night when he arrived at Jane's brownstone. She felt the tears of humiliation fill her eyes when she thought about her husband seeing her so vilely and violently used. 

"Abbey, baby, you're scaring the shit out of me." He turned off the water and squatted so he was on eye level with her. "Do you need a doctor?" He reached out a hand to touch her bare knee and Abbey flinched in response. "OK, babe, I'm going to call Admiral Hackett. I'll be right ba…" 

"It was him," Abbey choked. She looked up at Jed with anguished eyes framed by spiky wet lashes. "It was him." 

"Abbey, I don't know what you're talking about." He began to run a towel over her before holding out his hand to lift her to her feet and wrap her in a warm white terry cloth robe. His arms encircled her as he helped her out of the tub, and at his touch, Abbey felt herself losing the precarious hold she'd had on her emotions. She pressed her face into Jed's chest and simply let go of it all. Her body began to shake with strangled sobs. 

"Abbey, why are you crying?" He stroked her back. "For God's sake, tell me what's wrong. Lily said you got sick on the rope line today." 

"I got sick when I saw HIM, Jed." 

"Who? Who are you talking about?" 

Abbey pulled back and looked up into his face. 

"Marcus Hughes," she stated softly and watched while all the color drained from her husband's face. "He was standing there on the rope line. He…He took my hand…He touched me, Jed." 

Before Jed could explode with the anger that raged through his veins, Abbey raced from his arms to the toilet where she proceeded to be plagued by dry heaves. 

Jed was shaken and stunned. He hadn't seen this side of his usually calm, strong and confident wife since…well, since the aftermath of the last time that son of a bitch had touched her. 

"It's OK, Abbey." He swallowed his anger and began to rub her back in a circular motion while she retched. When she was finished, Abbey sat weakly on the bathroom floor, her back against the wall. 

"Is he in custody now?" Jed asked gently. "Did your agents bring him in?" 

"No," Abbey said quietly. Her gaze fell to the floor. She couldn't look Jed in the eye when she told him that she had allowed Hughes to get away. "When he took my hand and I heard his voice I just froze." Her voice was flat, detached, and completely devoid of emotion except for a small quivering hitch. "I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I didn't scream. I didn't tell anyone. I didn't do anything. I just STOOD there, Jed." 

"Abbey, don't." Jed felt tears sting his eyes as he reached for his wife. "It's OK, just don't." 

"I thought I was going to faint right there on the street. Lily grabbed me before I did and got me to the limo. I'm so stupid, Jed. How could I have been so stupid? They might have caught him if I had said something." 

"It's all right, sweetheart. They'll catch him. You did just fine." 

"I FROZE, Jed. When he touched me…" Abbey's eyes closed against the sensation, "…I felt it all again. Everything I'd felt after he raped me." 

"Hon, most people in your situation would have frozen. You were shocked and overwhelmed and…What are you doing?" he asked as she rose to her feet heading back toward the shower. 

"I need to get clean, Jed." She reached over to turn the water back on. But, as she began to slide the robe off her shoulders, strong hands on her arms stopped her. 

"Don't, Abbey." The pain in Jed's voice stopped her and she felt him begin to pull her robe back up. He remembered vividly the sometimes five or six showers a day Abbey had taken for weeks after she was violated. "Don't do this," he pleaded. "You're clean, baby, you're clean." 

"I don't feel clean. I feel sick and dirty," she choked. 

"You have nothing to feel dirty about." He turned her around and pulled her back into his arms. "Don't let him do this to you." He ran his hand over the back of her head stroking her wet hair. He could feel her small form shaking in his arms. This had been one of the hardest parts of the rape – watching Abbey afterwards. The way it had made her feel helpless, used and dirty. As if somehow, she was to blame. Because that was what the system did. It tried to make a blameless victim feel some type of responsibility for his or her own attack. 

It was all he could do to stay calm and comforting when what he really wanted to do was smash his fist through the wall. 

* * * * 

Jed stayed quite a bit longer than his allotted half-hour. He had helped his wife into one of his Notre Dame T-shirts and tucked her under the covers of their bed with two Advil to relieve the stress headache that was building in her head. She had tried to push him off back to work, but he had held her hand and promised to stay until she fell asleep. She was sleeping now, the tightness and pain gone from her lovely face. He stroked the hair back gently off her forehead trying to keep his own memories of her vulnerability that day at bay. He couldn't afford to think about that now. Rage was not what Abbey needed at the moment. She needed love and comfort and understanding. He hated to leave her like this, but he couldn't stay. He knew it was imperative he get this information to Ron Butterfield. The sooner Ron knew who they were after, the sooner Marcus Hughes would be brought in and Abbey could feel safe again. 

He ran his lips gently over her cheek and forehead and reluctantly made his way to the door. As he pulled it open, he was surprised to come face to face with Lily Mays. 

"If you're here to check on Abbey, she's sleeping," he informed her. 

"Actually, I'm here to see you, sir. Leo told me you were here. I just found this in Abbey's office on her desk." She handed Jed a plain white envelope. 

Jed swallowed and opened it carefully in case it was needed for evidence or something. 

>   
>  __
> 
> Dearest Abigail, 
> 
> My body still tingles from your touch this afternoon. Your skin is every bit as soft as I remembered it. You were so soft and I was so hard. Do you remember how hard I was? Do you remember how you screamed? Just thinking about the way you screamed fills me with anticipation for our next meeting. And this time, Abigail, I can promise you, you will beg. 
> 
> Your lover, MH

"Sir, are you all right?" Lily asked with concern. Jed's face had flushed a deep red and his hand was actually shaking with anger. 

"The Service let this letter get passed them?" His eyes were flashing now and Lily actually felt a twinge of fear in her belly. She had never seen her boss' husband like this. There was actually something almost… well… deadly about him. 

"No, that's the strange thing, sir," her voice trembled as she spoke. "The Service checks all the letters. Then they come to us and we check them. We only pass on personal correspondence or items we feel the First Lady should see. Nobody on staff saw or read this letter. It was sealed and had never been opened. Somehow that letter ended up on the First Lady's desk without going through any of us." 

"Did you see anyone strange going into her office?" 

"No, sir." 

"Don't let any of your staff leave. Ron Butterfield is going to want to speak with them. And DON'T tell Abbey about this." 

"Yes, sir." 

* * * * 

Jed began to barrel his way down to the West Wing. With every footstep, his anger rose until he was in a veritable fury upon his arrival to his office. 

The first person to feel his fury was Ron Butterfield who had been summoned the moment Jed arrived. The veteran Service agent received a stinging tongue-lashing from the enraged President. 

Jed knew this wasn't all Ron's fault. He knew that he was taking out his anger and frustration on this stoic man because he wouldn't fight back. Because he could vent until his heart was content the way he couldn't in Abbey's presence. 

In the face of the President's rage, Ron stayed calm as he was trained to do. The man did have a valid point. That letter never should have made its way to the First Lady's desk. Security had been breached. And what if the First Lady had been sitting at the desk? Neither man wanted to contemplate what might have happened then. But, the main reason Ron let the President rant and rave was because he knew that under all that blustery anger, Jed Bartlet was scared. He was simply a man scared that his wife might be hurt. 

While he presented a stoic exterior, emotions did churn inside Ron. He thought about how small Abbey Bartlet was. He thought about the bright smile that she would give him as a greeting and the way she would get down on her hands and knees to play with her babies. But mostly he thought about those nights that she would remove her high heels to walk barefoot down the hall, seeing just how tiny she actually was. With her killer heels and those stunning long slender legs, it wasn't so noticeable, but barefoot, it was apparent how vulnerable she could be. It angered him that someone had taken advantage of that vulnerability and overpowered her in a vicious attack and he vowed never to let it happen again. 

Finally, his anger mostly spent, Jed faced Ron with a rational concern, "Is he a threat to Abbey, Ron?" 

"Sir, we are doing everything we can to keep the situation under control. We will find him." 

"Ron, I asked you a direct question," the anger seeped back into his voice. "Is this piece of human waste a threat to my wife? Because if he is, I’ll keep her under lock and key here in the White House and go after him myself." 

"That won’t be necessary, Mr. President. We'll take care of it." 

"See that you do, Ron." 

* * * * 

Keeping his wife under lock and key when she was the First Lady of the United States was hardly feasible. Jed found this out quite soon when, barely two days after Hughes had approached Abbey, the two of them were to attend a fund-raiser for childhood Diabetes. Abbey had refused to even consider not attending for something this close to her heart. After her initial panic, she had become more rational about everything and was even slightly embarrassed at how poorly she had reacted to the situation. She refused to be reduced to that mass of fear and pain she had been all those years ago. She had survived the attack, had dealt with its aftermath and it was in the past now. Yes, a part of it would always live inside her, but it didn't have to cloud her judgment now. She had the best-trained agents in the world protecting her. She had a husband who would never let anyone hurt her. None of them would let Marcus Hughes near her again. At least that was what she told herself in the daylight when the demons weren't quite so terrifying. 

Jed felt as if he were walking on a tightrope. On the one hand, he wanted to reassure Abbey that she was safe, that nothing could happen to her and nobody could hurt her. But on the other hand, he wanted to protect her and keep her safely in a cocoon where no hurt could befall her. 

* * * * 

Jed watched his wife shaking hands and mingling with the crowd that surrounded her after they both had given their speeches. He had watched her onstage so poised and confident and impassioned. He knew she used to hate these political speeches and had felt out of her element when not lecturing about medicine. But, after doing it time and time again, she had really become a remarkable speaker. Watching her now, nobody would know what she was actually feeling inside, or what she had been through these past few days. He watched for a few moments longer and she seemed to be doing fine, so Jed turned to do his own mingling. 

He'd been at it for a while when CJ caught his attention. She tapped on her watch to show him it was time to leave. He scanned the crowd for his wife, but didn't see her. 

"Have you seen Abbey?" he asked her. 

"Not for a little while," CJ said. She was puzzled by the look of concern on the President's face. He wasn't usually one to keep his wife on a short leash. 

Jed made his way through the crowd until he got to Leo. "Have you seen Abbey?" he asked. 

"Not since I told her we needed to wrap up and sent CJ off for you. Last I saw her, she was heading for the stairwell. Wait a minute; now that I think of it, she went to the wrong one." 

"Which one did she go to?" Jed asked tightly. 

"That one," he pointed in the opposite direction of the stairwell they had come in though. 

"Was she alone?" there was a touch of fear now in his voice. 

"As far as I remember. Why are you getting so up…" Leo never got to finish his sentence as the President turned from him and began to plow through the crowd. 

Jed tried to keep his panic down but wasn't succeeding very well. Abbey was alone in an empty stairwell, and the thought of who might be with her created a sickening pit in his stomach that spurred him on to get to her even faster. 

"Abbey!" he called out as he flung the door open. 


	3. Love and Rage

Upon finding Abbey sitting alone, part way down the steps of the empty stairwell, Jed felt an old but familiar surge of that parental combination of relief and irritation. Much as he had when the girls were younger, he didn't know whether he wanted to spank her or hug her. He was relieved to find that she was alone, yet angry because she had scared the hell out him. 

"Abbey, what are you doing? We need to leave." The words came out sharper than he had intended, but the only response he received was a brief glance from his wife back over her shoulder. When she silently turned back to face the wall, he began to descend the staircase. 

Abbey sat huddled on the stairs trembling and taking deep breaths to calm herself. She had thought that she could do this. Everything had been going well until they had said it was time to leave. She had heard the irritation in Jed's voice and was irritated with herself for not being strong enough to combat her memories and fears. 

"Abigail," Jed's voice was softer as he gently touched her shoulder. "What's all this about, angel? We have to leave." 

"I don't know if I can do it, Jed." She continued to stare at the wall, unable to look him in the eye. 

"Are you afraid he'll be there on the rope line?" 

"Yes," Abbey swallowed. "It's just…the thought of seeing him, Jed…" 

"Ssh…I know, babe," he rubbed her shoulder, "but I'll be right next to you walking that line. I won't let anything happen to you." 

Abbey reached out blindly through tears to take his hand. "I know you won't." 

"But if you're still not comfortable with the idea, we'll skip it and just go straight to the limo." 

"Jed Bartlet skip a rope line?" her hand moved to her chest in mock horror. "The press would definitely know something was up with that. No, we'll do the crowd together. I can't let him alter my life. I have to be stronger than that. If I change my life because of this, then he wins. I'm not going to let him win this time." 

Jed swallowed the pain that rose within him at those words. Hughes had won the last time; he had gotten what he wanted, even if he had paid the price for that victory. Unfortunately, Abbey had paid an even heavier price. 

"That's my girl." He tried to smile but Abbey could see just how forced it was. He put his hand out to take hers to help her to her feet and couldn't help but note just how cold her hand was. He squeezed it tightly hoping to send his warmth through her, not knowing that the coldness went straight through to her core. 

* * * * 

Jed grinned, shaking the hands that were reaching out to him with such urgency. However, this time his heart was not in it. His eyes constantly moved to his wife. Abbey stood just ahead of him smiling, shaking hands, and signing autographs. The inner reserves of strength that she had just completely amazed him. The laughing, confident woman he was watching now was hardly the same person who, just ten minutes before, had been cowering in fear in an empty stairwell. He watched her stop in front of a pregnant woman who was offering gifts for the twins' upcoming first birthday. 

"How far along are you?" she asked. 

"Five months," the woman replied, placing a hand on her belly. 

"Oh, that's such a good time in a pregnancy," Abbey smiled. 

"Yes, now that all the awful morning sickness is over. Thankfully, all I had was nausea." 

"You're lucky," Abbey sighed. "I didn't think I was ever going to stop throwing up when I was pregnant with the twins." 

Jed smiled as Abbey moved on and the woman turned to her friend her voice shaking with excitement. "I can't BELIEVE I just stood here talking pregnancies with ABBEY BARTLET!" 

He marveled at the easy rapport that his wife had with people, especially today, when he knew that deep inside her stomach had to be in knots. 

Following just behind the President, Charlie bent down to accept a note from a young boy of five or six. 

"No," the boy protested, "I have to give it to the President. It's a secret message." 

"Oh, really?" Charlie grinned with affection. "Mr. President," he touched Jed's arm, "this young man has a secret message for you." 

"A SECRET message?" Jed enthused. "Now that does sound interesting." He took the envelope, ripped it open and began to read. 

>   
>  __
> 
> Jed Bartlet, 
> 
> I hear that you were very angry that Abigail and I had a little rendezvous the other day. I know where that anger comes from. It's the anger of a jealous man. You're jealous that I know what it is like to touch and taste the soft skin of Abigail's breast and how it feels to move inside her. You were too late to stop us the last time, and you'll never stop us this time. 
> 
> MH

White-faced and with his hands clenched, Jed shoved the note at Ron. Then, ignoring the outstretched hands, quickly made his way to Abbey. His eyes scanned the crowd frantically as he placed his arm around his wife's waist. 

"We have to leave," he said and began to lead her away from the crowd. 

Abbey gave him a puzzled look. They had barely started shaking hands; it wasn't like Jed to walk away so quickly. It was then that she noticed the agent's circle in close around them while others began to swarm the crowd. 

"He's here, isn't he?" Jed heard the panic in her voice. 

"I don't know," he admitted. "I just want you in the car." 

Abbey heard the steel tightness in his tone voice and allowed him to lead her quickly into the limo. Once inside she turned to him. 

"What the hell is going on, Jed?" 

* * * * 

With Abbey safely ensconced in the Residence, Jed made his way back to his office to await word from Ron. He fairly pounced on the man the moment he entered the room. 

"Did you get him, Ron?" the dead flatness of the President's voice made Ron stop in his tracks. It wasn't going to be easy to let Josiah Bartlet down, not about this. 

"No," he stated, rubbing a hand over his forehead with frustration. "He was probably long gone before you and Mrs. Bartlet ever went outside. We questioned the boy and he identified a picture of Hughes as the man who gave him the note. He told him it was a special secret message that needed to get to the President. That happened about a half-hour before you came out which gave him plenty of time to get away." 

"Jesus, that scumbag is using little kids now? Why does he always seem to be one step ahead of us, Ron?" 

"He's smart, sir, but he will slip up and that's when we'll catch him." 

"I told my wife she was safe," Jed said flatly. 

"What?" 

"Today. I told Abbey she was safe, but he was there." 

"And she was safe, he didn't get near her." 

"This time. She isn't going to feel safe until he's taken into custody and neither am I. Dammit, Ron, you have to find him." 

"We're bringing in some of his prison buddies and the court appointed psychiatrist who worked with him to try and come up with some leads. Try not to worry. He will slip up." 

Jed nodded and as Ron turned to leave Leo entered. 

"You want to tell me what the hell is going on. You've been wired tight for days now. All this barking and snapping at people is not good for morale. Why did you quit the rope line and whisk Abbey out of there like there had been a threat? Is there something I should know?" 

An inner war began to rage in Jed's head. He knew that he should tell Leo what was going on. Leo was his friend as well as his chief of staff. But, for so long, what happened that night had been private, something just between he and Abbey. Oh, others knew the basics of the crime that had been committed but the pain and turmoil had been confined in their marriage and, to a certain extent, the therapist Abbey had seen for a while after it happened. It wasn't easy for either of them to open up emotionally with others, especially about something this sensitive. In the end, he resolved that Leo deserved to know what was making him so crazy. 

"Yeah, it's probably time I tell you. The guy who got into our barn and sent the pictures of Abbey and me to her father has somehow gotten hold of our private line and has given Abbey some obscene phone calls. Two days ago, we found out who it is," Jed paused taking a deep breath. "It's Marcus Hughes." 

Leo's eyes widened with astonishment. "THE Marcus Hughes…The one who…" He couldn't bring himself to use the word. 

"Yeah, that's the one. Two days ago he approached Abbey on a rope line." 

"Oh, Christ," Leo groaned. "No wonder you've been so pissed." 

"That son of a bitch got to her, Leo. Not only did he get notes and calls to her; he fucking TOUCHED her on that rope line. It scared her so badly she threw up in the limo. God DAMN it, do you know how terrified you have to be to puke because of it." Jed was pacing now. "I keep thinking about what I walked in and saw that day. How helpless and hurt Abbey was and I know that she can't stop thinking about it. She's scared to death that he is going to get to her again." 

"That's impossible, Jed." 

"Is it? He always seems to be one step ahead of us. DAMN, that fucker's going to pay, Leo. He is NEVER going to touch my wife again." 

"You need to let the Service do their job." 

"Screw them. They can't even figure out how the notes and calls are getting in to her. I'm telling you, Leo; I have never wanted to kill another human being in my life, but I wanted to kill him that day. I almost did kill him that day. I couldn't hear Abbey screaming at me to stop. I didn't feel the punches I was giving him and I couldn't see the blood. All I felt was this red haze of rage and the need to see him dead for doing that to my wife. If that cop hadn't pulled me off him, I don't know what might have happened. I might have continued on until I killed him. I can promise you this though; the only way that bastard is going to get near Abbey is over my DEAD body." 

Leo gave his boss and old friend a long look and knew Jed was totally serious about that forceful statement. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him to walk in and see his wife in the process of being raped. He knew something had snapped in Jed at the sight. In war, they called it "blood rage" and it was an apt term for what had happened to him that day. Leo also knew with every fiber in his being that Jed would do whatever it took to keep Abbey safe. And he wasn't the only one. 

"I think you need to tell the senior staff what's going on." The words were spoken to Jed's back as he gazed out the window at the White House lawns. 

"This is personal, Leo. It has nothing to do with them." 

"It does have something to do with them. They need to know why you're biting their heads off." 

"They're tough. They can handle it." 

"It's more than them being able to take it. They're your friends, Jed. You're always there for them. Let them be there for you." 

"I don't need anyone to hold my hand," Jed snapped. 

"No, you don't. But you do need your friends. Let them in. Please," 

Jed took a deep breath and lost any animosity he had been feeling. 

"I'll talk to Abbey," he said. "That's the best I can do." 

* * * * 

Back at the residence, Jed heard Abbey's voice soothing crying infants in the nursery. He opened the door and grimaced at the smell emanating from the room. 

"I'm going to take a shower," he called out. 

Abbey turned her head from where she was standing changing Aislinn's diaper and glared at his departing form. Damn coward, she thought. Her nose wrinkled as she unsnapped her daughter's sodden overalls. Her diaper had leaked and Aislinn was a complete mess from her belly down her legs. Abbey started to wipe the mess away with a cloth, and then a dangerous grin crossed her face. She wrapped Aislinn in a towel and headed toward her and Jed's bathroom. She knew her husband thought he had made a clean getaway, but he was in for a rude awakening. 

As she entered the bedroom, she heard the shower running and Jed's deep baritone belting out "Danny Boy" for the world to hear. 

"Jed," she called out as she entered the bathroom. 

"Hey, baby, wanna join me?" 

"No, but somebody does." She jerked the shower door open and thrust Aislinn at him. "Clean her up, Daddy." 

"Abbey!" Jed protested holding her at arms length while his face wrinkled in protest of the smell. 

"Hey, why should I get all the fun?" She gave him that wicked grin of hers and shut the door. As she turned from the shower, she saw Nicholas crawling across the bathroom floor and scooped him up into her arms. 

"You better not get this stomach bug, mister," she warned in a stern voice. "I really don't need two of you sick." Nicky looked up at her with wide blue eyes and gave her a big Jed grin. 

"Damn if you aren't going to be a heartbreaker," Abbey shook her head then jumped as she heard Jed's howl of pain from the shower. 

"Jed," she called out. "You OK?" 

"Yeah," he breathed. 

"I hope that was chest hair." 

"Yeah," Jed said, looking down at the baby girl who held a fistful of his chest hair in her clenched fist. Aislinn was now pink and clean and chortling with glee at getting the best of her dad. 

"Let it go, sweetheart," he tried to pry her hand open. "Daddy needs his chest hair. It makes him macho and turns Mommy on." 

"Jed!" Abbey protested outside the door. 

"I'm having a conversation with my daughter Hedda, quit eavesdropping." 

"Ma…ma," Aislinn called out. 

"Is she clean yet?" Abbey opened the shower door smiling at the sight of father and daughter wet and soapy. 

"Yes, she is, no thanks to you." 

"No thanks to ME?" Abbey said. She opened a big warm towel and accepted her wet slippery daughter from him, wrapping her tightly in a cocoon. "I was just teaching you what happens when you try to shirk your responsibilities. You want the cuddles, you take the poop." 

"I never shirk my responsibilities." He shut off the water and accepted the towel Abbey handed over to him. 

"Well, what do you call practically running out of the nursery when you saw and smelled the mess?" 

"Self-preservation, darlin'." He gave her that boyish heart-melting grin of his and Abbey wondered if she would ever become immune to it. She supposed not since, after all these years, it still affected her so strongly. 

Jed watched Abbey lay Aislinn on a towel and sprinkle her little body with baby powder. He hated to ruin this lighthearted moment but he had promised Leo. 

"Abbey, Leo thinks I should tell the senior staff what's going on with Hughes." 

"Oh, Jed, I don't know. I don't want them looking at me funny or anything." 

"They already know something is up." 

"How?" 

"Well, I guess, according to Leo, I've been a bit of a prick this past week and the staff is starting to wonder why." 

"Jed, you always do that. You turn your fear into anger and then you take that anger out on people who don't deserve it." 

"Thank you for the session, Stanley. Now where were we? Oh yes, Leo wanted me to tell the staff. Who knows, maybe if they know, they'll see something that will help the Service find him. It's up to you though. Whatever you decide, I'm behind you." 

"I guess you're right. If they already know something is up, they may as well know the truth. You can tell Toby, Josh, and Sam, but let me tell CJ. I messed up the last time not being the one to come clean about the MS with her. I'm not going to mess this one up. She should hear this from me." 

"Do you want to be with me when I tell the guys?" 

"No. I think I'd feel more comfortable if you did that alone." She picked up her powdered, clean smelling daughter and left the bathroom for the bedroom. As she approached the bed, she saw her son on the floor and her expression turned to one of pure horror. 

"Jed!" she shrieked. 


	4. Love and Rage

"Nicholas, drop it!" Abbey shouted as she sprang forward to rip the bloody snow globe from his little hands. Nicholas gave a howl of fear at his mother's vehemence and the fierceness in which she had pulled his "toy" away from him. 

Responding to Abbey's initial call to him and his son's shrieking cries, Jed came running half-naked from the bathroom certain that some horrible fate had befallen his youngest child. Abbey was standing frozen staring at the globe in her hand as if she were completely unaware of the crying baby at her feet. 

"Abbey," Jed said sharply. He moved forward and picked Nicholas up, trying to soothe him. "Ssh…it's OK, sport. Mama didn't mean to scare you." He turned to Abbey. "You scared him." 

Abbey's eyes slowly turned to focus on Jed. He was holding their son against his bare chest. Big tears streamed down Nicky's face and he was slowly hiccupping as he calmed in his father's arms. 

"I…I thought it was blood," she tried to explain. 

"You thought what was blood?" 

Abbey handed him the snow globe of Boston. It was splattered with blood red nail polish. 

"Where did that come from?" he asked. 

"I don't know. It wasn't here earlier. It's from HIM, Jed. I know it. Boston. It's Boston." 

She reached a hand out to rub Nicky's shoulder and he regarded her with wary blue eyes and snuggled closer to his father. Abbey's heart hurt at that look. 

"I'm sorry, Nicky. Mama's sorry." She reached her arms out to take him and pulled him in close to her chest. "I'm so sorry, baby," she murmured into his hair. 

While Abbey made up with Nicholas, Jed began to search the place for more clues. It didn't take him long to find the note Nicky had found and balled up. He flattened it out and began to read. This one was longer than the others had been. 

>   
>  __
> 
> Dearest Abigail, 
> 
> I have left you a token of our past. Do you remember Boston with the same fondness that I do? It still fills me with desire to remember the way the blood trickled from your lip and down your thighs. The next time we are together the blood will be entirely up to you. If you behave, we can take things slow, but if you become defiant again, things will be just as rough as before. Either way – easy or rough – it doesn't matter to me. Just remember yours isn't the only blood I can spill. I know you stayed with HIM because of your children, but they should have been out of the way by now. You should NOT have given HIM more children, Abigail. It is the one thing I may not be able to forgive you for. You will have to be punished for that, my love. I will let you know when I have decided what the punishment will be. 
> 
> Until then, sweet dreams, Abigail. MH

"Bastard!" Jed exploded, throwing the note down on the table. The silence of its fall was not enough for the violence raging in Jed's veins and he drew his hand back to fling the glass globe against the wall. 

"Don't!" Abbey cried, grabbing his arm. "It's evidence, Jed. Maybe it has his fingerprints on it or something." 

Jed put his arm down and gave her a sheepish look. "Sorry. Oh God, Abbey, I just want to hit something and hit it HARD. I want to smash his goddamn face in." 

"I know." Abbey placed a hand over his wrist. She could feel his pulse racing with his hatred and fury. Jed was angry over the words in the letter, but what had Abbey reeling with nausea again, was the fact that somehow Hughes had gotten that globe and note right past the agents and into the sanctity of their bedroom. "I'm going to get the kids out of here; you better call in the agents." 

* * * * 

Later the next evening, Abbey walked down the hall to her bedroom. It hadn't exactly been a taxing day, but the fact that her sleep was being interrupted by nightmares on a nightly basis contributed to her general feeling of fatigue. So far, she had been able to keep the nightmares from Jed. She had awakened many nights sweaty and trembling, her knees drawn to her chest and her face streaked with tears. But, so far, her fear had been silent and Jed slept on. She wanted him to hold her safely in his arms but he wasn't just Jed her husband anymore. He was the President of the United States and she couldn't continually interrupt the little sleep that he got just to comfort her. So, she suffered in silence, holding in the sobs that threatened to burst free. 

Last night had been a particularly bad night. The shock of seeing her son holding something Marcus Hughes had sent her had caused a fear that she had never felt before. A blind animalistic fear to protect all whom belonged to her. _"Just remember yours isn't the only blood I can spill."_ Whose blood did he mean? _"I will let you know when I decide what the punishment will be."_ Just how was he going to punish her? It was obvious that he hated her husband to an extreme. Just thinking of those pictures of Jed making love to her with a big red X over his face caused shivers to run down her spine. But he had also made a comment about the babies and how she shouldn't have given birth to anymore of Jed's babies. Would he want to hurt her babies? That thought caused a wave of panic so strong she had to stop and lean against the wall. When it was just her that he was after, she had been scared, but she had been able to handle it. Now, the thought that he might want to hurt her husband or her kids was almost more than she could bear. 

She opened the door to the bedroom, almost afraid at what she might find. It certainly wasn't what she expected. Jed was seated on the couch with a huge German Shepherd at his side. Ron sat in a chair across from him. The dog gave a low growl as Abbey entered the room. 

"Easy, Max," Jed said. The dog immediately stopped growling and began to wag his tail and lick Jed's hand. 

"What is that dog doing here?" Abbey asked suspiciously. 

"He's ours," Jed grinned. 

"I thought we talked about this at Christmas," Abbey said with exasperation. "AND I thought we agreed on a collie puppy or something, NOT a full grown guard dog." 

"Well, right now we need a guard dog. Or at least you do. I don't like the idea of all this time you've been spending at Harmony Point alone." 

"I'm hardly alone, Jed," she said sarcastically. 

"You know what I mean. I want you to take Max with you for protection, especially if you are out riding or something." 

"I don't know, Jed. I don't like the idea of a guard dog around Nicholas and Aislinn. It's too dangerous." 

"That's why Ron is here. Do your stuff, Ron." Jed looked at the other man to convince his wife of the dog's necessity. 

"I don't think you need the dog, Mrs. Bartlet, but the President will feel much better if you take him with you. I can assure you that he has been trained very well to voice command and will not harm anyone unless told to do so. I chose a dog for you that is less aggressive but still protective." 

"Come meet him, Abbey," Jed urged. He knew that once his softhearted wife patted the dog she would be a goner. It was a well-known fact in the Bartlet house that Abbey was a sucker for any animal once she had held or touched it. That was how the girls ended up bringing in so many stray cats and abandoned dogs. Living on a farm had made it easy to accept the outcasts. But this dog wasn't an outcast. He had a purpose and that purpose was to keep Abbey and the kids safe. 

Abbey approached the dog slowly, offering her hand out for a sniff. 

"What did you say his name is? Max?" she asked. 

"Yes." 

"Well, that's original." She rolled her eyes. "Every other male dog in America is named Max." 

"They aren't all Champion Maximilian von Hapsburg," Jed introduced the dog as if he were a visiting ambassador. 

"Ah, I didn't realize you weren't just an ordinary Max," Abbey smiled as she knelt before the dog and began to scratch behind his ears. Max gave a moan of pure pleasure and rested his chin on Abbey's shoulder. That was all it took for the big dog to worm his way into Abbey's heart. 

"So, we can keep him?" Jed sounded like a kid eagerly waiting to see if he could keep his pet. 

"I suppose," Abbey sighed. She didn't like that she was a sucker for these ploys of her husband and children but she had long ago given up fighting it. 

"But don't think this means that collie puppy is out for Christmas next year," Jed warned. 

* * * * 

CJ frowned as she looked at the directions she had taped to her dashboard and wondered for the hundredth time just what the Bartlets had against city life. Finding their new Harmony Point home was proving to be just as fun as it had been the first time she had ventured into rural New Hampshire to find "The Bartlet Farm" as it was called and had been called for over 200 years. 

She wondered, yet again, what was so important that the First Lady wanted to have lunch with her way out here instead of in the residence. At first she had thought it was because Abbey wanted to showcase their new home for her, but after hearing that the President had blocked off time to have a personal, private meeting with the males of his senior staff, she had begun to think differently. She had a feeling that Abbey called this meeting to discuss with her whatever the President was discussing with the men of his staff. It had to be something sensitive enough that she wanted to be the one to tell her and to do it in complete privacy. That did not bode well. The last time the Bartlets had to reveal a secret it had almost toppled his Presidency and might still be cause for them to be beaten in their re-election bid. She could only hope that this was not a secret of that magnitude. 

"Hope this is it," she murmured to herself as she made the turn onto a tree lined drive. She knew she had the right place when she was stopped by Secret Service for her ID not one hundred yards up the road and still the house was not visible. As she rounded a corner, the forest opened to a magnificent vista of snow covered fields and the partially ice covered Chesapeake Bay. She sighed at the splendor of the view. Now she knew what the Bartlets had against city life. This place was just as impressive, in its own way, as the Bartlet farm in New Hampshire or their summer home on the craggy coast of Maine. 

Her feet crunched over the snow as she approached the large colonial farmhouse and made her way up the stairs. Her knock brought loud barking and growling causing CJ to step back. When had the Bartlets gotten a dog? 

"Max, easy. Sit." She heard Abbey say as she opened the door. "Hi, CJ," she grinned. 

Didn't Abbey Bartlet ever have an off day? CJ wondered with a sigh. Even dressed casual for hanging out in private she looked "put together". 

Abbey was wearing jeans, a navy blue cable knit fisherman's sweater, and loafers. Without her high heels and her sleek professional clothing, she looked younger, less sophisticated, and more approachable. She also looked much smaller. CJ felt like a giant as she stood in front of the petite, curvaceous First Lady. "Come on in." 

CJ eyed the big dog that was sitting at Abbey's command but staring at her intently, as if he would pounce if she made the wrong move. 

"He isn't going to bite me, is he?" CJ asked. 

"Of course not. He's just a big baby." Abbey put her hand on Max's head and the dog's big tongue came out to lap it. 

"If you say so," CJ said nervously. She entered the house still warily watching the Shepherd, but once she was in and obviously not a threat, she saw the dog relax and his tail began to wag. 

"I thought we'd have lunch in the living room in front of the fireplace since it's so bitterly chilly outside." 

CJ followed Abbey through the elegant house, over hard wood floors that gleamed with polish and old Persian carpets. She knew the home had come fully furnished but that Abbey had been spending time here decorating and changing a few things to put her own stamp on it. It was amazing, but in the span of a few weeks, she had really turned it into a "Bartlet home" filled with her own innate grace and elegant, yet inviting, taste. They entered the living room where a fire was burning warmly and a candle yielded the subtle scent of vanilla. CJ glanced around the room at the floral arrangements and pictures of the Bartlets and all their children and relatives that graced every table. She envied Abbey that history. 

She picked up a photo of the First Couple. It was a casual photo – both in jeans and sweaters – but one that bespoke of the love and joy they took in one another. The President was giving Abbey a big bear hug from behind and his chin rested on top of her head. Abbey's graceful hands displayed the gorgeous diamond engagement ring she wore as they covered the President's more masculine ones that were knotted at her waist. There was nothing posed or artificial about it. Both were smiling with pure joy. 

"That's one of my favorite pictures," Abbey said, coming up beside her. 

"You look very happy." 

"It was the morning after Jed won his first election to the State legislature and I had just found out I was pregnant with Ellie." 

"I'm not going to like what you're going to tell me today, am I?" 

"Don't worry. This has nothing to do with the Presidency. It's personal, which is why I wanted to be the one to tell you. Would you like to eat lunch before or after?" 

"I have a feeling from the look on your face that I won't have much appetite after so why don't we eat first." 

* * * * 

Despite eating lunch first, neither woman had had much of an appetite, and within the hour, they had brought their glasses of wine over to the sitting area. Abbey sat curled up on the edge of the couch with a pillow drawn to her waist as if knowing she would need its comfort. CJ sat across from her on an overstuffed chair. 

"Well, I guess it's time I tell you why I had you come out here." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"No, CJ, there is no 'ma'am' today. Today I am talking to you about Abbey and Jed, not the President and the First Lady." 

"OK," CJ agreed. 

"I'm sure by now you've heard about the photos taken of us." 

"No, ma…Abbey." CJ's heart began to race. Photos taken of them, that was never good. Why hadn't she been told? 

Well, Leo, I'm impressed, Abbey thought. She was certain the photos had been grist for the rumor mill, just as her act of carnality on the _Abigail Anne_ had been. 

"There were photos taken of Jed and me in the loft of our barn over the Thanksgiving holiday. Somebody was in the loft with us." 

"Why would the paparazzi want to take pictures of you in your barn?" 

"Because we were making love." 

Abbey watched CJ's mouth fall open and her face pale. She knew the Press Secretary was suffering near apoplexy at the thought that these photos would soon be available for public consumption. 

"Wh…Why aren't they on every magazine in the country, and why haven't I heard about them? I haven't heard anything from the press about this." 

"That's because it wasn't the press. The press doesn't know anything about this. It was Marcus Hughes who took those pictures and he didn't release them to the press. He sent them to my father." 

"Marcus Hughes is the man who raped you," CJ breathed. "This is unbelievable. How did he get in the barn? And why did he send the pictures to your father?" 

"We don't know how he got in the barn. He sent them to my father with the statement 'Did you know your daughter is a whore?' on one of the more graphic pictures." 

"I don't understand. Why would he call you a whore? Having sex with your husband doesn't make you a whore." 

"To him it does. He sees himself as the man I am supposed to be with; therefore, if I have sex with Jed, it makes me a whore." 

"That guy is nuts." CJ was obviously appalled. 

"I believe the word Ron used is delusional. When the pictures were sent, we didn't know who it was. Not long after, I began to get some obscene phone calls on my private line at both my office and in the residence and Ron was able to link the photos to a man who had been sending me notes for a year and a half. I only realized it was Hughes when I bumped into him on a rope line." 

"He had the balls to shake your hand on a rope line?" 

"Yeah, he's definitely got a lot of balls." Abbey stated wryly, thinking how openly he was now stalking her. 

"Did the Service take him in?" 

"No, I messed up. I froze and then panicked after he touched me and it was too late. Just the other day, he sent me a snow globe of Boston as a memento of what happened there." 

"Jesus, Abbey. I don't know what to say." 

"You never asked me about it." 

"What?" 

"When Jed and I sat with you all, early in the campaign, and explained that I had been raped and that it would probably come out in the course of the campaign, you never asked me what happened. You know the details of it." 

"I guess I just didn't want to push. I figured if you wanted to tell me, you would." 

"I want to tell you. I want you to understand why the thought of this bastard stalking me has me more afraid than I have ever been in my life." 

Abbey took a long swallow of her wine and a deep breath before starting in on her emotional explanation. 

"It was a Friday night and I was supposed to be home for supper, but I'd had an emergency. Amy Wells, a sixteen-year-old patient of mine who suffered from Cystic Fibrosis, needed emergency surgery to stop fluid leakage into her chest cavity. I had a terrible feeling she was not going to make it through the night. I had been fighting, along with her personal physician, for months to keep her alive, but I knew the fight was almost over and I wanted to be there if something happened. Sometimes when it was very late or I had to stay in the city overnight, instead of catching a few winks in the doctor's lounge, I would walk over to my sister Jane's brownstone apartment and crash. That's what I decided to do. I called Jed and told him I was spending the night in the city and then I walked the few blocks to Jane's. I keep wondering if I hadn't been so involved in my thoughts about Amy if I would have heard his footsteps behind me and avoided what happened." 

Abbey took another sip of wine and CJ could see that her hand was shaking now. 

"Jane was on Nantucket painting at my parents' summer place so I knew I would have the apartment to myself. I had just turned the key in the lock when I felt him grab me from behind. He was so strong and so violent, even in the beginning. He shoved me through the door and slammed it behind us. I tried to fight. I tried to scream. I got one scream for help out before he slapped me so hard across the face it nearly knocked me out. While I was dazed, he dragged me from the hall into the living room. It was there, in the light of the room, that I saw who he was. He was an orderly from the hospital. I didn't even know his name, just that I'd seen him a few times. At first, I didn't know if he wanted to rob me or rape me. It wasn't long until I found out. He tore at my clothes and it seemed that the more I kicked and pushed and tried to fight him the more turned on he got. He kept saying things like "Oh yeah, you hot little bitch, you like it rough, do you?" He ripped off my bra and I remember being so mortified that he was seeing me that way. Nobody but Jed had ever seen me naked like that. His mouth was all over me, his breath reeked and I had to fight not to throw up. Then he leaned down to suck on my breast, and all I kept thinking was that he had no right, NO RIGHT to be doing this to me. I ripped my fingernails down the side of his face. He howled in pain and let me go. But, before I could run, he slapped me again, even harder. This time I felt my lip split. I could feel the warm blood dripping down my chin and I had to fight to stay conscious. When my eyes cleared, I saw him pulling his pants down and that he was…ready." 

Abbey felt the tears starting to stream down her cheeks and she drew in a shaky breath. 

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I swore I wasn't going to do this." 

"Jesus, don't apologize." CJ moved forward to sit on the couch beside her. She took Abbey's hand in hers. "You take as much time as you need." Abbey nodded and grabbed a tissue to blot at her eyes and continued on with her story. 

"He told me that I was seeing a real cock now and that he was going to show me what it was like to be fucked by a real man. I panicked then. I knew it was going to happen and that I didn't have the strength to stop it, but I tried to crawl away. He literally pounced on me, slamming his knee into the small of my back to stop me. He yanked my hips up and lifted my slip over my waist so he could tear my panties off. He touched me inside very roughly and I began to cry. I knew it was over and I was beaten. All I could think about was Jed. Was he going to blame me? Would he think I didn't fight hard enough? Would he ever be able to look at me again? Would I be able to look at him again without feeling this shame? Would he ever want to make love to me again? Still, Hughes wanted more. He wanted me to beg him for it. He kept saying it over and over, "Beg me for it, you stuck up little bitch". I knew I wasn't going to win the war, but at least I could win this battle. I refused to cave in and beg him. It made him furious and he grabbed my hair in his hand, pulling my head back until I thought my neck would break, but there was no way I was going to do as he asked. It made him crazy that I was defying him, and he used every ounce of that anger to slam himself into me. I felt myself tear and I screamed at the pain his penetration had caused. I guess I screamed Jed's name because he said, 'You think your precious Jed is EVER going to want you again after this? Go ahead and scream for him. He's not going to save you.' Then I closed my eyes and bit my lip until it bled even more, because he LIKED it when I screamed and I wasn't going to give him any more enjoyment than he was already getting. The only thing that I'm thankful for is that he took me from behind, so I never had to see his gloating face while he did it. It hurt so badly. I knew I was torn and bleeding and I thought it would go on forever. I tried to close my mind off to what was going on. I told myself that he was having my body, but he wasn't having ME. That was when I heard his voice." 

Abbey had been looking at the pillow in her lap while she spoke and now, as she paused, she noticed that tears were streaming down CJ's cheeks as much as they were her own. 

"Whose voice?" CJ asked, swiping her fingers on her cheeks to wipe away the tears. 

"Jed's. He had come down to surprise me and saw the signs of the scuffle in the hall and called out to me. I cried out his name and he entered the living room just as Hughes finished. I think it was the fact that he was in the middle of an orgasm that kept him from seeing Jed right away. But I saw him and I've never felt such a combination of emotions. First, there was relief that he was here to stop this bastard, and then came the waves of degradation, shame and mortification that my husband was watching another man coming inside me." 

CJ squeezed Abbey's hand for comfort and encouragement. 

"I've never seen such a look on Jed's face in my life. It wasn't a passionate show of fury. It was as if his rage was so strong and overwhelming that it became deadly inside him. His face looked dead and cold, but that rage came bursting forth as he literally flung Hughes off of me and into the wall. They began to fight but, while he was a little bigger, Hughes was no match for Jed's fury. At first, I was relieved that Jed was taking care of him. I wanted to see him beaten for what he did to me, but then I realized he wasn't stopping, that he was completely out of control and it scared me. I knew Jed wasn't going to stop until Hughes was dead and then I would lose my husband to prison. I screamed at him to stop, but he didn't even pause. I don't think he even heard me. It was a police officer responding to the call of an upstairs neighbor who heard me scream for help that pulled him off. By then, Hughes was unconscious and Jed had broken his nose and his jaw." 

CJ leaned back, still digesting what she had just been told. She had seen her boss angry, even furious plenty of times, but never had she suspected that there could be this kind of violence unleashed in him. Then again, she had never seen his family threatened either. 

"What happened then?" 

"We had to go to the hospital for a rape kit and…" 

"Why did you have to have a rape kit? They caught the guy in the act." 

"We still needed evidence to prosecute. I didn't want to take any chance that he might get away with this." 

"How did the Pres…Jed take it?" 

"He did OK. He was very strong for me. He kept telling me it didn't matter; no matter what had happened to me, it didn't matter to him. He loved me and he would always love me. He didn't break down until the doctor said they'd had to do internal and external stitching and that I had required six external stitches to repair the damage done to me. That was the only time I saw him cry." 

"Oh, Abbey." CJ shook her head. "I don't know what to say. I can't imagine how hard that must have been on both of you." 

"It was, but thankfully I didn't get any diseases from him. They tested right away for STD's and AIDS, but what really frightened me was that I might get pregnant. I wasn't using any birth control because Jed and I were trying for another baby. We had decided, after Zoey, to try for a boy one more time. In fact, we'd had sex just that morning before I left for the hospital. Can you imagine the nightmare that would have been? I could never have had that monster's baby." 

"But you didn't get pregnant?" CJ felt guilty that her first thought was that somehow Abbey was trying to tell her that it was going to come out that she'd had an abortion. 

"No, thank God. But for a while, I thought I was. My period was late and I started getting nauseous and vomiting. I think Jed took that harder than anything. An abortion went against everything he believed in, but he knew as well as I did, that I couldn't go through with a pregnancy if it was Hughes' baby. Thankfully, we never had to find out what we would have done. I started my period. It was just the stress of what had happened that made me late, and it turned out that the nausea was a side affect from the sleeping pills my doctor had prescribed for me to get through the night without nightmares." 

"Well, I guess you did everything right. You got him convicted." 

"Yeah, after he tried to paint me as his mistress." 

"What?" 

"He tried to say that he and I were having an affair and I cried rape when Jed caught us. He said that I had other lovers and the damage done to me could have been from them." 

"You've got to be kidding." 

"Nope." 

"Well, at least the jury didn't believe him." 

"They had too much evidence against him to believe him. There were only two semen samples found in me – Jed's and his. Then there were all my colleagues from the hospital who testified that I barely knew the guy and the lady upstairs who heard my cry for help. There was also the police officer that had arrived on the scene and the pictures of the damage done to me that they were shown. In the end he got 5-7 years." 

"And he's waited this long to get back in touch?" 

"Oh no. After his time was up, he was on parole. Part of his parole was that he was not allowed within five hundred feet of me or my property or the hospital where I worked. One afternoon Jed's father caught him leaning against the pasture fence watching me ride. He'd done his homework; he knew Jed wasn't home. He just hadn't counted on my father in law arriving for a visit and catching him. John pinned him to the fence with his car and held him there until the police arrived. He was given another 3-5 years for parole violation. If it had been Jed in that car, I can almost guarantee you that Marcus Hughes would not be alive today." 

"He hates him that much?" 

"Yes, he hates him that much. CJ, does the name Elliott Roush mean anything to you?" 

"That's the guy the President ran against and beat for his seat in Congress." 

"Yes, he is also the man who represented Marcus Hughes as his defense attorney. He's the man who tried to portray me as this sexy woman, who knew she was sexy and flaunted that. He's the man who tried to break me on the witness stand. Jed had no desire to leave the state legislature and run for congress until he heard Roush was running. No prominent Democrat wanted to take him on. Jed took him on all right. He wasn't content just to defeat him. He had to kick his ass and make him look like a fool. Since then, he has made damn sure Roush has not won any election he has campaigned for. Elliot Roush and Marcus Hughes are the two men alive that my husband hates." 

"We always wondered why he despised that Roush guy so much. He's not usually so vindictive." 

"No, he's not, until you fuck with his family. Then, watch out, all bets are off." 

"Can I ask you a question? I mean, if it's none of my business just tell me." 

"CJ, I think I just made it your business," Abbey gave a soft, sad smile. "Ask away." 

"You were worried about how the Pr…Jed would take what happened to you and how you would feel. We watch you now and you guys are as intimate sometimes as newlyweds. It obviously didn't affect your level of affection and sexuality. Was it always that way?" 

"Oh, it took a little while. It was harder for me that way then it was for Jed. I could see him looking at the bruises and bite marks on me, and where he felt anger toward Hughes, I saw disgust. I felt dirty and shamed and I couldn't understand it when Jed said he didn't see me that way. I was afraid that when Jed made love to me again I wouldn't be able to respond the way I always had. For a while, I had the excuse of the damage. It took me about a month to heal. When I did heal, I wanted Jed to make love to me and wipe away the filth and memory of that scum, and he did. He was so sweet and gentle and he talked the whole time so I would know that it was he touching me. 

Abbey smiled softly at the memory. 

"Thankfully, I was able to respond the way I always had. I still had nightmares, but not during Jed's lovemaking." 

Abbey left out the fact that it had taken over a year before she was able to let Jed make love to her from behind. It had never been their favorite position, but they used in on occasion for variance. There were some things that needed to be kept between husband and wife and this was one of them. She glanced out the window and saw that the sun was beginning to set. 

"Damn, I didn't realize it was so late. I think we better head back to the White House." 

"Was this what the President was telling Toby, Sam and Josh this afternoon?" 

"In a nutshell. Not about the attack, just that he's back and threatening me again. You're the only one who got the blow by blow description. Thank you for listening to me today. It helps to have someone else other than Jed to talk to about this. It's hard to talk to him sometimes because he's still filled with guilt and anger." 

"Guilt?" 

"That he didn't leave the farm sooner. He keeps telling himself that if he had left fifteen minutes earlier and met me at the brownstone I wouldn't have been raped. Intellectually, he understands that isn't how life works. You can't know what's going to happen in the future. But his heart still hurts over this." 

"I'm sure it does. And, Abbey, anytime you need to talk about this or just need a shoulder to cry on, my door is always open." 

"Thanks, CJ." Abbey gave her a hug. "I may take you up on that." 


	5. Love and Rage

Jed leaned back in his chair and took a swallow from his coffee mug. As usual, his morning meeting with the senior staff had gone off on some random tangent. Usually it brought him amusement and many times he could get into it, but not today. Today he was anxiously waiting for Charlie to poke his head in and tell him Ron Butterfield was ready to meet with him. He knew Ron had met with Marcus Hughes' psychiatrist and was anxious to find out what his chief of security had learned. 

As his mind wandered, his eyes fell on the pictures of Abbey that lined the top of his desk. In every damn one, she was laughing or smiling. It had been ages since he had seen her relax and smile like that. His meeting with the males on his senior staff had been much easier on him than hers had been with CJ. She had come home after they spent the afternoon together completely emotionally drained. It was as if just talking about what had happened and was still happening had exhausted her and she had crawled into bed long before she usually did. But the meeting had to have been cathartic in some way, for it was the first night in a while that she had actually fallen asleep without tossing and turning. 

"Sir." Charlie was standing expectantly just inside the door. Jed realized the word must have been said more than once as the staff was looking at him expectantly. 

"Yes, Charlie." He ignored the looks of concern that passed his way. 

"You wanted me to send Agent Butterfield right in." 

"Yes, let him in." Jed stood as the agent entered the room. 

"Sir," Ron began. His gaze swept the room and he was clearly hesitant to continue on until the room cleared. 

"It's OK, Ron. They all know what's going on now. I'd like them to be in on this." 

"Yes, sir. Well, as I said earlier, I met with Dr. Roberta Carlisle, Marcus Hughes' psychiatrist." 

"Does she know where he is?" 

"No, he hasn't been in to see her in months. It's one of the reasons she agreed to forgo doctor/patient confidentiality. While she refused to go in to much detail, she did give us some valuable information inside his psyche. I brought her here to question her further and I'd like to bring her in to speak with you and Mrs. Bartlet." 

"Abbey's at the pool with the twins for their swimming lesson." 

"I'll get her for you, sir," Charlie said. 

The gravity of the situation was apparent by the missing banter over who would get to go check out the First Lady in her bathing suit or any musing that she might be in the favored black bikini. 

"No, that's OK, Charlie. You all stay here and I'll run down and get her." 

* * * * 

The sounds of laughter and splashing greeted Jed as he opened the doors to the White House indoor pool. 

"All right, Mrs. Bartlet," said the swimming instructor. "Now you try it with Aislinn." 

A smile crossed Jed's face as he approached the pool to join his family. 

"Hey, Ash. Look who's here to watch you," Abbey said as Jed squatted beside them on the edge of the pool. 

Aislinn gave her father a big grin and reached her arms out to him. 

"Oh no you don't," Abbey reined her back in. "It's your turn to go underwater just like Nicholas did. Get ready, Ash. Mommy's going to blow in your face now." 

Abbey blew into her daughter's face and quickly dunked her under water. Aislinn came up kicking and sputtering, all wide stunned eyes. She blinked the water out of her eyes and Jed waited for the wail he was sure was coming. 

"Look at you!" Abbey exclaimed with a laugh that hid any concern. She had been a mother long enough to know that a child responds to their parents reaction. "What a big girl you are." 

Instead of crying, Aislinn mirrored her mother's smile and rubbed her face against the fabric that covered Abbey's breasts. 

"Well, that was pretty impressive, kiddo." Jed tweaked her tiny nose. Aislinn sneezed and buried her face back against Abbey's chest. Jed hated to be the one to take the joy out of Abbey's day; she'd had so little of it lately. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt you guys but Ron's in the office. He has some information." 

Abbey nodded, her face becoming serious. 

"Izzy, can you take over here?" 

"Yes, ma'am." Izzy took Aislinn from Abbey's arms. Aislinn fought at first. She whimpered and squirmed as she tried to get back to her mother. Abbey felt that familiar pang of guilt that all mothers feel when walking away from their crying child. She was relieved when Aislinn's fussing stopped almost before it began. Izzy had been able to get her attention off her mother leaving by showing her the big beach ball that floated in the water. 

Abbey stepped out of the pool in a high cut blue swimsuit that made her legs look a mile long. Jed watched as she lifted her arms and arched her back to towel off her hair. Her nipples strained against the spandex as she hit the cooler air. His mouth went dry as he watched her bend to run the towel over her slender legs, and he felt the stirrings of desire as she stood and ran the towel across her breasts. He and Abbey hadn't made love since Marcus Hughes had re-entered their lives and his body was starting to rebel over that celibacy. 

He averted his gaze from her with a wave of guilt and shame. His wife was going through hell thanks to a lunatic's lust. And how was he helping matters? By being unable to control his own body's response to her. 

"I'll meet you back at the office," he muttered. 

"I'll be there in a few. I just have to change," she called back. 

* * * * 

Abbey entered the Oval Office in a tight, short, plaid, wool skirt, black turtleneck sweater, black tights and her usual heels. The only evidence that she had recently been swimming was her still wet hair that she had slicked back into a sleek ponytail. The clothes she wore only emphasized the fact that, while she had always been svelte, she was now moving toward becoming dangerously thin. There was sense of vulnerability to her now. A hint of how fragile she now was that moved the males in the room to feel a surge of the need to protect rise within them. 

Abbey felt self-conscious as all eyes in the room moved to her. She saw Josh look at the floor, too uncomfortable with what he now knew to look her in the eye. From Toby and Sam, she saw pity and compassion and from Leo she saw genuine pain. This was just the reason she had not wanted to involve the staff. She didn't want pity or compassion or pain or for any of them to be uncomfortable around her. She didn't want to seem different to them, didn't want to be seen as a victim. She had been through enough therapy to know that she had nothing to be ashamed of, but she couldn't help those old feelings of shame that seemed to take her over at times. She just wanted to be Abbey again. 

She felt CJ moves beside her and looked up to see the other woman give her a smile of support. From CJ she only saw friendship and loyalty, and she mustered up the strength to say what needed to be said. 

"Look, guys, I'm not a piece of fragile bone china," she started bluntly. "I'm not going to break if you say or do the wrong thing. I know that there is bound to be some awkwardness here. This is a sensitive subject and I appreciate the fact that you are all here for Jed and for me." 

The tension in the room seemed to dissipate a bit with Abbey's words, for despite her frail appearance, her straightforward, direct words had been pure Abbey Bartlet. 

Jed moved forward to take Abbey's hand and lead her to the couch. Leo noticed that he did not let go of that hand even when they sat down together. It was amazing how much strength those two could draw from one another. 

Dr. Roberta Carlisle eyed the First Lady. She had talked about this woman so many times with Marcus Hughes; she almost felt like she knew her. But, she didn't, of course. The Abigail Bartlet Marcus Hughes talked about was a fantasy. A woman, who, on his good days, he raised high up on a pedestal to love and admire and who, on his bad days, he tore off that pedestal with a need to hurt and to punish. She had, at first, been a bit reluctant to break any doctor/patient confidentiality, but she wasn't a stupid woman. She knew she could never live with herself if anything happened to Abbey Bartlet or to the Bartlets' children. But it was more than that. She also knew that if anything happened, she would become the most reviled woman in America. Abbey Bartlet was a national icon – a combination of Marilyn Monroe, Jackie Kennedy, and Princess Diana all rolled into one. And Aislinn and Nicholas Bartlet were more than just the President's children – they were America's children. 

Now watching the first couple sitting before her, supporting each other through this pain and fear, made her glad she had chosen to help them. Despite her strong words earlier, Roberta could see that Abbey Bartlet was on edge. There was something almost brittle about her and Roberta wasn't so sure she wouldn't break like china. She was a psychiatrist – trained to notice these things and Abbey's body language screamed of her need to protect herself. It was in the way she sat with her knees pressed tightly together and the way she bent forward slightly with one arm crossed defensively across her breasts her other hand clutching her husband's. 

"Dr. Carlisle," Jed began, "you're sure you don't know where he is? He has threatened my wife and my family. If you have any idea where he is I am not ordering you as the President of the United State to tell me where, I am imploring you as a husband and a father." 

"I assure you, Mr. President, that if I knew where he was I would cooperate fully. Marcus Hughes stopped seeing me months ago in October. Part of his parole is that he meets with me twice a week. When he didn't show for his appointment, I alerted his parole officer and they have not been able to find him. He's had no contact with me." 

"What can you tell us about him?" Leo asked. 

"Marcus Hughes is a Love Obsession Stalker," Dr. Carlisle started. "These types of stalkers develop a fixation on another person with whom they have no personal relationship." 

"But why me?" Abbey asked. "What did I do?" 

"You probably didn't do anything, Dr. Bartlet. I seem to recall Marcus telling me that you were a doctor at the same hospital where he was an orderly. He said you smiled at him one day and said thank you when he wheeled one of your patients off to surgery." 

"That’s it?" Abbey asked appalled. "I smiled and said thank you and for that he raped me and is threatening me and my family? Because I SMILED at him?" Abbey felt the tears of anger and fear threaten and felt Jed squeeze her hand tightly. 

"How could he get so obsessed with one smile?" Jed asked. 

"Sometimes it doesn't even take that. These people are delusional, Mr. President. These are the stalkers who go after celebrities and people they don't even know. So, even if you had ignored him Dr. Bartlet, he may still have become fixated on you." 

"About 25% of all stalkers fall into this category," Ron informed them. 

"People like Hughes are, for whatever reason, unable to form normal personal relationships so they retreat into this fantasy world. They invent fictional stories – complete with what is to them real-life scripts – which cast their unwilling victims in the lead role as their own love interest. They then attempt to act out their fictional plots in the real world. They expect their victims to play their assigned roles as well. They believe they can make the object of their affection love them. When the victim refuses to follow the script or doesn't respond as the stalker wants, they usually attempt to force the victim to comply using threats or intimidation." 

"That's why he's been sending the letters and making the phone calls," Abbey breathed. "Because I've ignored his letters." 

"You're a strong, powerful woman, Dr. Bartlet," Ron said. "If he can scare you, control you, then that gives him power and he needs to feel that power over you." 

"Do you think that he will be violent again?" Jed asked. "Do you think he would really try to hurt Abbey or the kids?" 

"I'll be honest with you, Mr. President," Roberta said gently. "When threats and intimidation fail many stalkers turn to violence against their victims. I can tell you that Marcus Hughes sees those two babies of yours as proof of Mrs. Bartlet's infidelity to him. He seemed to be doing well when he got out of prison. He was taking his medication and I felt he was on the road to recovery. Then the Presidential campaign started and Mrs. Bartlet was everywhere. She was in the newspaper, on the covers of magazines, on the news, the subject of profile after profile. I could see his old obsession creeping back." She turned to look at Abbey. 

"Your name started coming up more and more often, but I think what sent him over the edge was the announcement that you were pregnant. He was furious that you had cheated on him and were still sleeping with your husband." 

"We've gone back over the letters Hughes sent here and found that the first one came just weeks after the announcement that Mrs. Bartlet was expecting." Ron looked down at the letters in his folder. "The notes got very angry in the weeks following the twins' birth when the media blitz was on." 

"In the last session I had with him, he was on a tear. Evidently, he'd been to a bar in Georgetown and overheard some off duty Secret Service agents gossiping about a romantic tryst that you both had been involved in on a sailboat this summer." Roberta spared them the crude derogatory words Marcus had used to describe the encounter. "I don't think he was taking his meds. He was in a complete fury. He didn't show up for his next appointment and I haven't heard from him since. Dr. Bartlet, he wants to get you into the little fantasy life that he has created for you, back to when you loved him." 

"I NEVER loved him," Abbey spat out. "He raped me, for Christ sake." 

"I'm sorry, that was a poor choice of words. For you and the rest of the world it was rape, but in his mind, he made love to you. As I said, he is delusional. He also sees the President and the children as reasons why you won't leave to be with him. He could very easily try to take away those reasons." 

Abbey gave a sharp intake of breath and her face paled. 

"Stop it," Jed said sternly. "Can't you see you're scaring her?" 

"No, it's OK, Jed," Abbey said. "We need to know everything so we can prepare." 

"I know I can't tell you not to be scared," Ron's compassionate eyes fell on the lovely First Lady, "but I can tell you that you are not an average citizen. You have the best protection in the world. We are putting extra security on all of you, including your daughters and the twins. We won't let anyone get to you." 

"You let him get in my bedroom," Abbey snapped, for the first time displaying the anger only Jed had shown the Service so far. 

"He didn't get in your bedroom, ma'am. We swept it for prints and all we found were the domestic staff and the Service agents. We are in the process of questioning all the domestic staff. If, somehow, Hughes got one of them to help him, that could explain how stuff is getting in to you." 

Abbey glanced at her watch and gave a slight jump. 

"I'm sorry, I have to get back to the residence and finish packing. I'm leaving for New York City in just under two hours." 

"You're not going to New York City, Abigail," Jed stated firmly. "I'm putting my foot down." 

"Well, you better pick it right back up because I'm going. This is one of the biggest AIDS fund-raisers of the year and a lot of those people are paying big bucks to see me. Besides, I'm supposed to bring two of my evening gowns to auction off as part of the fund-raiser." 

"I don't care what you are supposed to do. You're not going to New York City alone and that's final." 

Abbey's green eyes flashed with fire and the senior staff began to slink their way out of the Oval Office before the real war started. 

"That's FINAL?" Abbey's temper flared. "You can't tell ME what's final." 

"I believe I just did." 

"I'm not Rapunzel, Jed. You can't keep me locked in my room in the White House." 

Jed thought for a moment. "Yes, I can." 

"But you won't." 

"No," he admitted with defeat. "As much as I want to, I can't ORDER you to stay here until they find him. I'm asking you not to go, Abbey." 

"I have to go, Jed. If I don't, what will be next? The State of the Union? The convention? The campaign? How long before he'll turn me into a frightened little mouse scared of my own shadow? I have to do this. For me." 

"I still don't like it." 

"And I didn't like it when you had to go out and walk the rope line just weeks after somebody nearly killed you on one. But I let you go, Jed. You need to let me do this." 

Jed looked at her for a long moment. One part of him wanted to lock her away safe and secure, where nobody could hurt her. But the more rational part of him knew that wasn't possible. Abbey was an independent, vital woman and he couldn't hide her away from the world. 

"OK," he sighed. 

"OK," she gave him a half smile and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. 

* * * * 

Before the First Lady's entourage left for New York City, Jed pulled Anita Fallon, the head of Abbey's security, into the Oval Office. 

"What can I do for you, Mr. President?" she asked. 

"I don't like the idea of my wife making this trip right now. I don't like the idea of my not being there with her." 

"Please try not to worry. We have extra security and we've taken special precautions so that nobody, not even the press, knows the hotel where Mrs. Bartlet is staying." 

"I don't want her walking any rope lines. I want her in and out of wherever she goes and I want an agent with her at every moment. I don't want her even going to the bathroom without an agent with her." 

"Yes, sir." Privately, Anita thought the First Lady might take issue with that, but she wasn't going to argue with the President when he was in this kind of mood. 

"I don't want ANYTHING to happen to her or, I swear to God, heads will roll. Have I made myself understood?" He opened the door to leave the office. 

"Yes, sir. We won't let this man get anywhere near the First Lady." 

"See that you don't." 

"You should try not to worry so much," Anita said, dropping the almost military bearing she usually had. 

"I'm going to worry until she is safely home and he is back behind bars. I'm telling you – seriously, right now – that I will KILL that son of a bitch with my own bare hands if he so much as tries to lay a finger on my wife." 

CJ had been coming around the corner and stopped short when she heard the President's last statement. It was more than just the violence of the words that shook her; it was his tone of voice. It was a tone she had never heard before. She had heard him angry, furious, and even raging, but she had never heard him quite so cold and deadly. She didn't doubt for a moment that the President meant every word he had said and that sent a shiver down her spine. In spite of her fear, however, she wondered what it would be like to have a man love her so intensely that he would KILL someone who tried to hurt her. She envied Abbey Bartlet that kind of devotion. It had been obvious from the start just how much the two of them loved each other, but she was starting to see a whole new depth to their relationship. She had no doubt that either of them would die for the other, but now she had to wonder, would they kill for each other? 

"Mr. President," she said. "May I talk to you in your office for a moment?" 

"I only have a few minutes, CJ. I want to see my wife off." 

"I couldn't help but hear you as I came around the corner." 

"And?" 

"And you can't talk like that. You know how gossip goes. If it gets back to the press that you are talking about killing someone all hell is going to break loose." 

"I was simply stating a fact." 

"But you did it in an open doorway. I know how you feel. Abbey told me everything that happened. I know that you saw him…" she trailed off gently and touched his arm. 

"Then you know why I feel the way that I do." 

"Yes, of course I do. I'm just asking you to be careful what you say and where you say it. You said you didn't want to give Hughes any publicity by telling the press what is going on with him, but if anyone catches you talking about killing him then it is all going to come out." 

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'll try to control my temper a little better." 

"For what it's worth, Mr. President," she said as she turned to leave. "I'm glad you broke his nose and his jaw." 

"I should have castrated him while I was at it," Jed said bitterly. 

"I'm with you all the way on that." 

* * * * 

Abbey left the fund-raiser feeling quite pleased. Earlier in the evening, her gowns had brought in more money than any other item that had been auctioned off. She had spent the last three hours schmoozing with New York politicians, actors, actresses and other assorted celebrities and now couldn't wait to get back to her hotel room and get some sleep. His feet ached and so did her mouth from all those forced smiles. 

She felt the knots begin to tie up her stomach as they stepped outside to the chants of "ABBEY, ABBEY, ABBEY". Flashbulbs blinded her eyes as she tried to focus on the crowd. She heeded Jed's warning and did not head toward the crowd. Instead, she waved and smiled and made her way to the limo. One of her agents opened the door for her and as she was about to step into the car she saw him. He was standing against the rope. 

"Anita," she called out. Her agent quickly came forward. "It's him, right…" she stopped speaking as she turned and saw the dark haired man standing before her was not Hughes after all. 

"Where, ma'am?" Anita scanned the crowd. She had Marcus Hughes' picture imbedded in her brain. 

"I…I'm sorry I was mistaken," Abbey said with embarrassment. She got in the car pressing her fingers into her temples. How could she be so stupid? Now she was seeing him everywhere, in every dark haired man she saw. You've got to snap out of this, Abigail, she told herself or you're going to go crazy. 

* * * * 

Once at the hotel Abbey phoned Jed omitting the fact that she was seeing Marcus Hughes everywhere she looked. She took a long hot shower and changed into one of Jed's T-shirts to sleep in. Whenever she went alone on a trip away from home, she always brought Jed's T-shirts to sleep in. No matter how clean they were they always retained the slight scent of her husband and that helped her to feel closer to him, helped her to sleep, although she didn't think she would be doing much of that tonight. She grabbed a book from her suitcase and snuggled under the covers to read. 

The jarring ring of her cell phone caused her to jump. She placed her book down and shook her head, sure that only Jed would be calling her at this hour. She picked up the phone and hit the talk button. 

"Hey, baby," she smiled. "What did you forget to tell me?" 

"Hello, Abigail," the voice was deep and menacing. It was not Jed after all. "I'm watching you." 


	6. Love and Rage

Abbey froze the moment she heard his voice. 

"What do you want from me?" she demanded. 

"Oh, come on now, Abigail. You know exactly what I want." 

"Well, you aren't going to get it," Abbey snapped. 

"Oh, I think I will. When I'm ready, you'll be mine. Maybe even tonight. You're all alone, Abigail. All alone and ready for bed." 

"You don't know that," she seethed. 

"Don't I? I'm watching you right now, my love." 

Abbey's heart began to race. He couldn't be here; there was no way he could know where she was. She walked quickly to the lone window overlooking the street and pulled back the sheer drapes. Across the street, in the shadows, stood a lone figure. As the drapes moved, he stepped into the glow of the streetlight and blew her a kiss. Abbey gasped and jumped back as if the kiss had physically touched her. 

"There is nowhere you can go that I won't find you," his evil laugh filled her ears. 

She pulled the curtains closed, flung her phone on the floor and raced across the room to alert the agents on duty outside her door. 

"He's outside right across the street from my room." Her voice was breathless and urgent. "He just called me on my cell phone." 

"I'm on it," Lori said, running for the stairs with professional dedication. She and a couple other agents on duty in the lobby rushed outside to find the stalker. 

Anita and two other agents remained vigilant and on full alert in front of the First Lady's hotel room. She was at a complete loss as to how this had happened. How had Marcus Hughes found the First Lady when seasoned, veteran journalists had been unable to do so? 

By the time Anita had to knock on the door and tell the First Lady that Hughes had seemingly vanished into thin air, Abbey had dressed and was just finishing angrily throwing clothes into her suitcase. 

"Let me guess, you didn't get him?" she flashed. 

"No, ma'am. He seems to have disappeared, but I still have agents out scouring the area for him. Are you leaving?" Anita was eyeing the full suitcase. 

"Hell yes I'm leaving. You TOLD me he couldn't find me here; that nobody would know where I was. But there he was standing right outside my bedroom window STARING at me." 

Abbey's temper was flaring now and she was fighting very hard not to lose control and break down in front of her agent. All she wanted to do was hang on until she got back to the White House. 

"I don't understand it myself, ma'am. But, he can't get to you. I assure you that you are secure. You don't have to leave." 

"Forgive me if I don't quite believe you anymore." 

Anita could see that the First Lady's hands were shaking terribly as she tried to snap the clasp on her _Louis Vuitton_ suitcase and moved forward to give her hand. 

"Dammit!" Abbey swore with frustration. She smacked her hand down hard on the suitcase in a move reminiscent of her more temperamental husband. "Why can't you stop him?" 

"We will, ma'am," Anita said firmly. 

"By the time you do, it may be too late." Abbey's tone was harsh and bitter and not like her at all, but Anita didn't take it to heart. She knew the First Lady was scared and frustrated and, at this point, seemed to barely be hanging on by a thread to the control she prided herself on. 

* * * * 

"Well, I think your lack of sleep right now is perfectly normal," Stanley said. He was having his weekly meeting with the President, this time in the study next to the Oval Office. "Yes, you were doing much better, but with everything you've told me about what has been going on these past few weeks it is only natural that you'd be worried about your wife." 

"And having nightmares almost every night?" 

"Yes. You don't allow yourself to think about what happened or what you fear might happen again during the day, so when you go to sleep your mind goes into overdrive with memories and fears." 

"It's more than that, Stanley. It's just all so damn frustrating. I'm the commander in chief of the mightiest military the world has ever seen. If I wanted to, I could order the entire destruction of civilization. When my people are killed abroad, I retaliate with bombs; and yet I am damn near helpless when it comes to making sure that my own wife is safe. I wasn't there to protect her the first time around and I'm damn sure not going to let it happen again." 

"That's the heart of the matter right there, isn't it?" 

"What is?" 

"That you weren't there to protect her. We men are taught from the time that we are little boys that it is our job to protect and defend our sisters, our mothers, our daughters, and, of course, our wives. You feel you were derelict in your duty to protect your wife from rape, which is the worst violation a marriage can endure. In fact, many don't endure it at all." 

"If only I'd gotten there sooner…" 

"What? You'd have stopped him? How do you know that? You might not have been able to prevent it even if you were there." 

"Oh, I would have PREVENTED it," Jed ground out angrily. He got to his feet and began to pace. "You can be sure that I would have prevented it." 

Stanley's timer went off and he got to his feet. The session was over. It was something that had taken Jed a while to get used to. No matter where they were or what they were talking about, when that timer went off the session was over. 

He saw Stanley to the door and noticed there was some activity among the agents. Ron was talking into his little wrist radio. 

"Scarlet is in and secure." 

Scarlet? Jed paused. That was Abbey's Secret Service code name. But Abbey wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow. What could have happened that would cause her to flee the Big Apple in the middle of the night? His body suddenly turned cold with apprehension. 

"I'm going to the residence," he called out to Ron as he breezed by him. He and the other agents began to run to keep up with the urgent pace of the leader of the free world. 

* * * * 

Jed strode in through the bedroom doors scanning the room frantically for his wife. He noticed Abbey's unpacked suitcase on the floor and that Max was lying stretched out in front of the bathroom door. 

"She in there, buddy?" he asked. The big dog got to his feet and his tail began to wag as Jed approached. 

"Abbey." He knocked at the bathroom door. "Abbey." When she didn't respond to his repeated calls of her name, he began to twist the knob. He was surprised to find it locked. Abbey never locked the door. 

"Abbey, honey, it's me." He knocked again harder. "Let me in, sweetheart." 

Abbey slowly opened the door. Her face was pale and streaked with tears, her eyes pools of fear. 

"Abbey, what happened? What's wrong?" 

"They can't protect me," she choked out. "Nobody can protect me." 

"What are you talking about?" He grasped her arms. 

"He was there, Jed," she cried out, pulling away from him. "He knew EXACTLY where I was." 

Jed felt the blood freeze in his veins. 

"Abbey." He looked into her frightened eyes. "Did he hurt you?" 

"No, he didn't touch me, but he knew where I was and what room I was in. He was standing right outside my window." 

"How the hell could he know where you were?" 

"I don't know, but he did. He said that no matter where I went he would find me…And I believe him, Jed." 

The abject pain and fear in her eyes as they met his caused a lump to form in his throat, as did the quiet scared tone of her voice. 

"I don't think there is a safe place for me anymore." 

Jed ran his thumb over her cheek to wipe away a stray tear and he pulled her into his arms holding her head to his chest. 

"You are safe, baby." He stroked her hair. "You're safe right here in my arms. I'm never going to let anything happen to you…Believe me?" 

Abbey didn't answer right away. Instead, she buried her face in his neck. Jed stepped back cupping her exquisite face in his hands and he stared deeply into her hazel eyes that were swimming with tears. 

"Do you believe me?" 

Abbey saw the conviction and determination in his eyes. 

"Yes," she whispered softly. "I believe you." 

* * * * 

Abbey felt Jed's lips move from her jaw down to nuzzle softly on her neck. She tilted her head back to give him better access and sighed as he continued his descent down over the swell of her breast until he found her nipple and latched on to erotically suck on her. She moaned with pleasure and arched her back offering herself up to that magical mouth. Her hands tangled in his thick hair and she gave a soft gasp of pleasure as she felt his hand move between her thighs. He began to stroke her with the expertise of a man who had done this hundreds of times and knew just where and how to touch her. Her body was on fire; it had been so long since she had felt this way; since Jed had touched her this way. She longed for him to be inside her. To be joined as one. 

Jed must have sensed her need, for it wasn't long before she felt him parting her legs and sliding in between her thighs. She closed her eyes awaiting the exquisite sensation of him filling and stretching her. 

"Beg me for it, you bitch." Abbey's eyes opened with shock. Jed never spoke to her this way in bed. But instead of gazing into the depths of her husband's gentle, sparkling blue eyes, she was confronted by the gleaming maniacal dark ones of Marcus Hughes. 

"No," she cried, pushing against him. This couldn't be happening again. "Oh God, no." She tried to close her legs against him and hold him off but he was so strong. 

"I said, beg me for it, you stuck up little bitch." He pressed her legs further apart and slammed into her, ripping and tearing her fragile flesh. Ripping her very soul. 

"NOOOOOOO!" she screamed into the silent night. The terror in that long anguished scream ripped Jed's heart out as he was jolted out of a deep sleep. He quickly moved to pull her into his arms. 

Abbey instinctively fought him, still the grip of her nightmare. She struck out at him, kicking and scratching, fighting as if for her very life. 

"No! No! You'll have to kill me first!" 

Jed tried to still her thrashing limbs. "Abbey," he said firmly. "Abbey, it's me. It's Jed, honey. It's Jed." Slowly Abbey stopped fighting and her eyes began to focus on her husband. 

"J…Jed?" 

The door had flung open at Abbey's scream and two agents stood in the doorway at a loss as to what to do. They weren't sure how to proceed on this. The President had blood dripping from the corner of his eye, but it was obvious he wanted to be left alone. 

"It's OK, fellas," he said, motioning them to leave. "It's under control." 

"Yes, sir," they murmured. Both agents were family men and both felt for the President and the First Lady, especially the First Lady. Both were also consumed with anger and frustration over not being able to catch the man responsible for scaring the First Lady so terribly. It was their job to protect her and, so far, they had been mucking that up terribly. 

"Abbey, calm down, sweetheart. It was just a nightmare. I'm right here. You're OK. You're safe. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you." 

"Jed," she sobbed, burrowing into his chest. "Oh God, Jed. Why is this happening to me again?" 

"Ssh…it's OK now. It's all over. It was just a dream." He lay back against the pillows with her held tightly in his arms. 

For the next hour and a half, he held her, soothed her and murmured platitudes into her hair until she finally fell asleep in his arms. His chest was wet with her tears. Even while she slept, Jed continued to stroke her hair as if that would calm her and keep her nightmares of HIM at bay. He choked back the anger he felt when thinking about who the star of Abbey's nightmare had been and what he had been doing to her, but he couldn't hold back the words that came seething from within. 

"I HATE you," he ground out to the picture of Marcus Hughes in his head. "Oh God, how I hate you." 

* * * * 

The next morning Leo entered the Oval Office in a happily repentant mood. 

"Now before you start calling me a fair weather fan, you know I was rooting for the Patriots, I just had to take the Raiders. I really thought they were going to whip their butts. But, I gotta give your guys credit. Who knew that some obscure "tuck" rule would launch them into the Super Bowl." 

Leo stopped when he realized that Jed wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying. He had expected to come in and find Jed bouncing off the walls with jubilation and full of "I told you so's" when it came to the New England Patriots taking their wild card spot all the way to the Super Bowl. Instead, the President looked haggard and preoccupied. 

"What happened?" he asked. "Too much celebrating last night?" 

"What?" 

"Last night. You did watch the Pats beat the Raiders, didn't you?" 

"Yes, of course." 

"Well, you don't seem very excited." 

"Oh, I am. Of course I am." 

"But something else is bothering you." 

"Abbey came home from New York City last night." 

"I didn't think she was getting back until today. She was complaining you guys wouldn't be able to watch the game together." 

"She was supposed to come back today. She came home late last night instead. Marcus Hughes made an appearance at her hotel room." 

Leo's face paled and suddenly his face became as somber as Jed's was. 

"Did he get to her?" Leo choked out, terrified of what Jed might say next. 

"No. He just scared the hell out of her. He called her on her cell phone and said he was watching her, and that no matter where she went he would find her. Her location was supposed to be top secret and yet he found her. He was standing right outside her bedroom window." 

"How is she taking it?" 

"Not good. She's angry and she's scared. She's afraid he is going to make good on his promise to get to her. She had a horrible nightmare and woke up screaming and fighting me." 

"Is that where you got those scratch marks by your eye?" 

"Yeah." Jed touched the wounds gingerly. "It took me over an hour to get her to stop crying and calm her down. It's getting to be just like it was before. She flinches sometimes when I touch her. We haven't had sex since the day she saw him on that rope line. She has these horrible nightmares. And she thinks I don't know it, but she is back to taking four or five showers a day in an effort to feel 'clean'." 

"I didn't realize it was that bad." 

"Well, the fact that he seems to show up wherever she is and then disappear before the Service can get him isn't helping matters. She's scared to death and I can't do jackshit to make her feel safe." 

"Well, she is safe. There is no way the Service is going to let him get to her. He may get close but not close enough." 

"Bullshit. We always say if they want you bad enough they'll get you. What if this guy wants Abbey bad enough?" 

Shivers ran down the spines of the two powerful men at just the idea of that happening. 

* * * * 

"You really did it this time," Lori gloated as she finished placing his supper in front of Marcus. "You scared the crap out of her. She went running back to Washington so fast it made our heads spin. Then, according to the guys, she had one hell of a nightmare. She woke up screaming bloody murder and they found her crying in the President's arms. I can't believe I was on my break and missed it." 

Marcus ignored her prattling and dug into the blood red steak on his plate. Things had not quite gone according to his plan. He hadn't expected Abbey to run right back to Washington and into her husband's arms. His plan had backfired and pushed her closer to HIM. Just picturing the scene Lori had mentioned had put him in a black mood. 

"Well, aren't you going to talk to me? You asked me what happened after you made that phone call." 

"And you told me. What else is there to say?" He glowered at her. 

"You could say how nice the table looks with the candlelight and the flowers. I spent all afternoon planning this romantic dinner for you." 

"You shouldn't have bothered. I'm not one for romance." 

At least not with you, he thought. God, he couldn't believe that this stupid bitch honestly believed that he wanted to be with her, that he was falling in love with her. If he hadn't been so annoyed, he might actually feel sorry for her. But, the truth was that, at times, it was all he could do not to strike the pathetic fool. He hated being with her. Hated being here in her apartment, away from all his pictures and videotapes of the woman he loved. But Lori had told him the investigation was getting close and he was better off staying with her. He had followed her suggestion and all but moved in. Still, it was so hard to have to be with her when it was Abigail he should be with. He thought of how she had sounded answering the phone and how she had looked in that window wearing only a long T-shirt, her hair loose and flowing. His sexy, sweet Abigail had been so close. He knew that he couldn't stand to wait much longer to get even closer to her. 

He dropped his knife to his plate and began to pace from the dingy kitchen to the living room. Sometimes this need inside him was so strong he felt that he would burst from it. His head would pound, his heart would race, his blood would pump, and his body would stiffen with arousal. At those times, the only way to keep control was to pace. Pace and think of just what was next in his plan to get control of Abigail. 

"What is it, baby?" Lori asked, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Marcus tried not to recoil with disgust. As much as he hated it, he still needed her to help him. 

"What are they doing this weekend?" Marcus asked. He turned around and smiled down at her. 

"I think I heard Ron say that they are going to Harmony Point for Super Bowl Sunday." 

Marcus gave her a broad grin and felt his spirits rise. 

"You gonna be on duty?" He ran his hand over her rear. 

"Part of the time." 

"Good. Then you can let me in." 


	7. Love and Rage

"Dr. Bartlet, isn't it true that you do not dress in a conservative manner? One that would more befit a doctor." Elliott Roush paced in front of Abbey who sat on the witness stand. 

"I guess that would depend on how you define conservative, Mr. Roush," Abbey said coolly. "I dress professionally." 

"Well, according to Mr. Hughes, your manner of dress was more provocative than many of the other female doctors. Let's be honest, Dr. Bartlet. You're a very good-looking woman and you know it. Weren't you looking for attention by dressing in a certain way?" 

"No." She gave him an icy stare. 

"You didn't want to tease Mr. Hughes, turn him on?" 

"No." 

"Isn't it true that you were lonely in the city and you turned to my client to ease that loneliness? Didn't you start a sexual affair with him, then panic and cry rape when your husband caught the two of you." 

"No," Abbey was obviously starting to get agitated. "I didn't even know him." 

"Oh come on, Dr. Bartlet. You'd say anything to keep your husband from finding out about your indiscretion, wouldn't you? You wanted Mr. Hughes. You WANTED him." He wagged his finger in front of Abbey's face. 

Jed clenched his fists willing himself not to get up and grab that mealy-mouthed son of bitch by the throat. 

"No!" Abbey cried, for the first time losing her composure. " No, I didn't want to be with any other man but my husband. I didn't want to be hurt." 

"You're a sexy woman, Dr. Bartlet. Tell me, do you enjoy rough sex?" 

"I object. Dr. Bartlet's sex life is not on trial here." 

"Oh, yes, it is," Roush argued. 

"Overruled. You may answer the question, Dr. Bartlet." 

"No," the word came out as a pain filled whisper. "Not like that." 

"Sure you did. You like it rough. Admit it. You wanted it!" 

"No! I didn't WANT a stranger to beat me and tear me up inside so badly that I'm lucky I can still have children. You think anyone would want to be hurt like that? Do you honestly think anyone could be SICK enough to want to be violated like that?" Her words were choked out on a broken sob and the tears began to stream down her cheeks. 

Jed leaned forward in his seat, his heart breaking for her. John and Sally sat on each side of him both gripping an arm in restraint. He wanted to go to his wife and gather her in his arms to take her away from all of this. He wanted to strangle Elliott Roush for putting her through this humiliation. She was the victim here, not that bastard Hughes. 

He strained against the hands that held him back. Hughes turned around in his seat and gave him a malevolent, triumphant smile and suddenly Jed was plunged back into that brownstone hearing Abbey crying out his name. How long had she been crying for him to help her without a response? He opened the doors to the living room; his body consumed by shock and outrage. Abbey was on her knees, her head held up by that bastard's hand fisted in her hair. Her clothes were torn, her lip was bleeding, and she was crying as he rutted into her from behind like an animal possessed. Her face contorted in pain with every grunting thrust Hughes made and when her eyes focused on Jed, she began to plead. 

"Jed…Jed, help me…Oh God, help me," she was begging him, pleading with him… 

"Abbey…Abbey…" He tossed and turned and suddenly woke with a start. His T-shirt clung to his chest with sweat and his heart was racing with anger. He looked down and saw that Abbey was still sound asleep curled up tightly to his side. He gently brushed a tendril of hair back off her cheek and felt the sting of tears in his eyes. She looked so innocent and defenseless with the moonlight touching her lovely features. He was too upset and restless from the nightmare to settle back to sleep and instead slid out from under her arms. He gently slipped his pillow back under them so as not to awaken her. He slowly got to his feet and peeled off his sweaty shirt, wiped his face with it, and threw on his bathrobe. He walked to his dresser and hidden way in the back he found his pack of cigarettes. He shook one out, grabbed his lighter, and went out on to the balcony to light up. His hand was still shaking from the pent up emotions the nightmare had released. He was almost halfway through the cigarette when he felt soft arms go around his waist. He released the smoke from his lungs and turned to face his wife. 

"You're going to catch your death out here." 

"The pillow didn't work?" he asked. 

"It's softer than you. What's the matter? Can't sleep again?" she asked. 

"Nope." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

"Nightmares or too much on your mind?" 

"A little of both, I guess." He brought the cigarette up to his lips and Abbey pulled it away. 

"This isn't going to help matters," she told him and proceeded to stub it out in a flowerpot. 

"I know," he sighed. "But nothing seems to help." 

Abbey knew something that usually helped, but she just wasn't sure if she was ready for that yet. 

"Want me to make you some warm milk?" 

"No." 

"Want me to give you a massage?" 

"No." 

"What do you want, Jed?" 

"I want this to all go away. I want to go back to where we were last month before all of this happened." 

"Me, too. But, unfortunately, I can't help you there. Come back to bed. I'll tell you the name of every bone in the human body. By the time I get to the last phalange, you'll be out like a light." 

* * * * 

"Nicholas Josiah Bartlet, if you spit this food at me one more time, you are not going to get any breakfast this morning." Abbey's words were spoken with frustration as she tried to place another spoonful of food into her reluctant son's mouth. Nicholas moved his head from side to side trying to avoid his mother's spoon. Abbey was exhausted and didn't have a lot of patience this morning. 

"Look at your sister. She ate it." Abbey turned to the high chair on her right and rolled her eyes when she saw that Aislinn had mashed her baby oatmeal into her wispy blond hair and it was now sticking up in little spikes. "Well, some of it anyway." She removed the bowl out of Aislinn's reach and sprinkled some Cheerios on the tray of her highchair to keep her amused. 

"All right, Nicholas. One bite for Mommy. Please, sweetheart." Nicholas gave her a heart-melting smile and Abbey knew he was ready to acquiesce. "That's a good boy." Her hand began to descend, but just as the spoon hit his lips, he batted her hand away sending a gob of the sticky oatmeal into Abbey's face. 

"OK, young man, that's it. You're not getting any breakfast." Abbey felt the baby food slide down her cheek and her tongue swiped it off the corner of her lip. When she looked up Jed was standing in the doorway. He had been watching the mother/son struggle for a little while and was trying desperately to hide his amusement. 

"I swear to God, Jed, if you laugh right now, you will be walking funny down to the Oval Office." 

"Hey," he put his hands up. "Did I laugh?" He moved forward and stood in front of his son's high chair, his hands on his hips, eyeing him sternly. "I'll handle this, Abbey." 

"Be my guest." 

"Now that was not very gentlemanly behavior at all young man." Nicholas grinned at his father and reached his arms out to him. 

"Oh no, you may have worn your mother down, but this is me your dealing with now. You are going to eat your breakfast." 

Abbey watched with amusement while she cleaned Aislinn up. Jed wasn't having any better luck than her as Nicholas spit out bite after bite. 

"There is nothing wrong with this food, Nicholas. Watch, Daddy will eat it." Jed took a bite before Abbey could warn him not to and she saw his face start to twist in disgust. 

"Don't even think about making a face right now," Abbey warned. "And DON'T spit it out." 

Jed gave her a baleful look and swallowed trying not to grimace. 

"God, that's as bad as some of the crap your mother makes ME eat," he commiserated with his son. 

"Jed, don't swear in front of the babies." Abbey glared at him, pulling Aislinn in close to her chest. "Don't listen to your Daddy, Ash. He likes to curse." 

"I didn't' swear," he protested. 

"You said C - R - A - P," she spelled the word out. 

"Last I knew, Abigail, that was not a swear word. And if that is the worse they hear me say, they will be lucky." 

Abbey shook her head and looked up to see Leo in the doorway grinning broadly at the first family. 

"Mr. President. We were supposed to have a breakfast meeting." Jed looked down at his watch. 

"Oh shit," he cursed. 

"JED!" Abbey exclaimed. 

"Oh, Abbey, they aren't talking yet." 

"'Yet' is the operative word. Do you want your son's first word to be c - r - a - p? Or s - h - i - t?" 

"Could be worse with him for a father," Leo grinned. 

"I appreciate the help, Leo." 

"Anytime, Mr. President. That's what I'm here for. Now about that meeting." 

* * * * 

"Margaret, get Toby in here pronto. The President wants to re-vamp the…" Leo's voice trailed off as he saw Abigail Bartlet seated inside his office. He ignored what Margaret was saying and immediately entered the office shutting the door behind him. 

"Abbey?" he asked. 

"Hi, Leo." She gave him a forced smile. Fully dressed, the changes in her appearance and demeanor made him ache inside. It was more than the weight loss and the haunted look in her big blue-green eyes; it was the loss of that special spark that was Abigail Bartlet. "Do you have a few minutes?" 

"For you," he touched her cheek, "I have all the time you need." 

"I know you don't, but thanks for saying so." 

"I haven't had a chance to talk to you since I found out what's been going on, but I just want to say I'm so sorry that this is happening to you." 

"Thank you. That's actually what brings me here. I'm worried about Jed." 

"Jed?" Leo's eyes widened with surprise. Then he shook his head with a chuckle. Leave it to Abbey to be worried about everybody else but herself. 

"What's so funny?" Abbey frowned. 

"You. Honey, everybody's worried about you and here you are telling me you're worried about Jed." 

"Well, I am. I've tried to keep my nightmares from bothering him, but now he is starting to be plagued by them. Between the kids waking up and the two of us tossing and turning, we're lucky if we get a couple hours of sleep a night. I heard you arguing with him at your breakfast meeting that he wasn't concentrating on the State of the Union. I know how important that speech is, especially this year. I'm worried that he is focusing so much attention on Marcus Hughes and on me that he isn't concentrating as much on his job as he should be." 

"Of course he's preoccupied, Abbey. And yes, I want him to spend more time on the State of the Union, but he can run the country AND look after you." 

"He shouldn't have to, Leo. I'm a big girl. I was thinking about maybe staying at Harmony Point with the kids for a while after the Super Bowl and give him a chance to get down to business." 

"Don't do that, Abbey. That will only make it worse on him. He damn near went crazy when you were in New York City. He wants you close by so he can protect you." 

Leo watched Abbey's eyes fill with tears and his heart overflowed with the tender, yearning love that he had for her. 

"I just don't know what to do. I'm really scared, Leo. This guy REALLY scares me. I'm scared for Jed. I'm scared for my kids. And I'm scared for myself. What if he gets to me? I can't go through that again." 

Leo fought the urge to pull the frightened woman into his arms and hold her tightly to him for comfort. Instead, he took her two hands in his own. 

"He won't, honey. There are guards everywhere. I promise you, none of us is going to let him near you. You have Josh and Toby and Sam and me looking out for you." He wiped a tear from her cheek. "And you have Jed. That man would fight till the death before he let anyone hurt you." 

"Sometimes that's what I'm afraid of most." 

* * * * 

"Look, you only have about fifteen minutes," Lori told Marcus as they stood in the doorway to the first couple's bedroom at Harmony Point. "The First Lady is out for a walk with the dog and the President will be here soon. You need to be out of here before his detail gets here." 

"I will, I will," Marcus said with irritation. 

"I don't like this," Lori said nervously. "I think this is really pushing it. I could have done whatever you wanted just like I have been." 

"No. I need to do this. You go stand guard. I won't be long." 

"OK, OK, but don't go near the babies. The nanny is in the room next door." 

Marcus gave her an icy glare that caused Lori to shiver with apprehension. There was something about Marcus' single minded and increasing preoccupation with the First Lady that was causing her to question getting involved in all of this. 

As soon as Lori left the room, Marcus went to work. He was overcome with a sense of excitement at being in the room where Abigail slept and at seeing her things. He moved forward to touch the big four-poster bed where she slept. He ran his hand over the handmade quilt and then gently caressed the soft pillow. He leaned forward to see if he could still smell her, then suddenly jerked back with a start at the realization that he might be touching HIS side of the bed. It made him physically nauseous to think that there was another man who shared her bed and her life. He scowled and turned away before his anger erupted causing the pressure to rise up in his head. 

His eyes were drawn to the dainty antique vanity table that was covered with Abigail's perfumes and make-up. His fingers grazed over her lipsticks and atomizers. He lifted the lid to a container of _White Shoulders_ talcum powder and lifted the powder puff to his nose. He sprayed a floral essence perfume into the air to inhale; his senses filled with the scent of her. He picked up a heavy silver brush that had her initials A.A.B. engraved in it and pulled a couple strands of her coppery hair from it. He imagined what she looked like sitting here running this brush through her silky tresses. As he reluctantly turned from the vanity aware that he was running out of time, he pocketed a bottle of _Chanel_ perfume. 

A small thrill went up his spine as he stood before her dresser and opened the lingerie drawer. He caught his breath at the array of silky underwear in a variety of colors. Lacy bras and skimpy bikini panty sets in black, rose, midnight blue, leopard prints, and virginal white. Sexy garter belts, naughty little bustiers, and delicate silky camisoles and teddies. He lifted a handful of silk and buried his face in it inhaling deeply. 

He fingered a pretty white bra – its front clasp was a tiny pink rosebud – and imagined what it would be like to open that rosebud and allow Abigail's breasts to spill into his hands. However, in the end, he chose to take the leopard print set to go with his perfume. 

The closet held just as many tantalizing items. Romantic peignoirs, satin pajamas, and even a long, completely sheer nightgown. Just the thought of seeing Abbey's amazing nude body shadowed under the sheer material had him hard and throbbing. The evidence of her sexuality and completely sensual femininity almost caused him to lose his head and forget his purpose. 

As he regained control of his raging hormones, he moved into the bathroom. There were two large medicine cabinets – one of which was filled with body lotions, massage oils, bubble bath, aromatherapy bath oils and salts and an array of candles for those long romantic bubble baths she loved so much. The next cabinet was more utilitarian and filled with the necessities of everyday life: cough syrups, toothpaste, antacids, Advil and the proof that his love shared her life with another man. Abigail's Midol and tampons sat side by side with HIS shaving cream and bay rum aftershave. Beside the bottle of aftershave sat a small round package of prescription birth control pills made out to Abigail Bartlet. Marcus felt it, the pressure rising within, and as he grabbed the plastic container, his head began to pound painfully. 

That little whore needed to be taught a lesson. He'd warned her. He'd told her he was coming for her and that it was time to purify herself, yet all that time she was still fucking HIM. He stuck the birth control pills in his pocket with all the other goodies he had taken. Without these little insurance policies against more little Bartlet babies, he doubted Abigail would chance having sex. He knew she could easily refill the prescription; but, for a few days, she would be pure. 

* * * * 

Wearing jeans, hiking boots and an old barn jacket that overwhelmed her small frame, Abbey walked along the edge of the bay with Max at her heels. Her hands were shoved into her pockets and her head was down to combat the wind. Most of the heavy snow was gone, but there was still enough to cause her feet to crunch as she walked along, lost in thought. She hated the person she was slowly becoming. This person who flinched when somebody touched her, who jumped when a hand was placed on her shoulder, who wanted to stay hidden away inside so she wouldn't be confronted by her demons. She hated this woman who couldn't allow her husband to make love to her because she still felt that residual shame. The fear that Jed would see her as "dirty" or "soiled" in some way ate away at her usual sexual confidence. 

She thought about the men who surrounded her. Jed's assurances that he would die before letting anything happen to her. Ron stating that he and his agents would never let anyone get to her. Leo saying that he, Toby, Sam and Josh would protect her from the man who wanted to harm her. She hated being thought of as the weak, vulnerable female, but she was also savvy enough to realize that she was at risk. The last time Hughes had attacked her, he had flung her around as if she weighed nothing. Her fighting had barely deterred him at all and he had been able to do exactly what he wanted with her. Somehow, she had to do something about that. Maybe if she knew how to protect herself, she would feel better and more in control of what was happening to her. 

Beside her, Max gave a deep growl that pulled Abbey out of her thoughts. 

"What is it, Max?" Abbey asked. She felt a shiver of apprehension as she looked toward the edge of the woods and placed her hand on the dog's head. Max gave another deep warning growl – this time with his teeth bared and the hackles on his back at full attention. Abbey turned toward where the dog was looking. 

"What do you see, Max?" Her eyes scanned the darkness at the edge of the woods trying to see what the dog saw. She took a step back, not blinking, and suddenly her heart gave a jerk as she saw something move in the shadows. They were not alone. 


	8. Love and Rage

"Abbey!" At the shout of her name, Abbey jumped and turned in the opposite direction to see Jed standing by the house, his hands cupped around his mouth like a megaphone. Black SUV's and police cars lined the drive and she knew that he must have arrived while she was lost in thought. She turned back toward the woods where she had seen the shadow but nothing moved. Instead of growling, Max was whining now with the anticipation of Abbey releasing him to go to Jed. 

She smiled down at the dog. 

"OK, go," she said. Max jumped to his feet and raced up the hill. By the time Abbey got there, the dog was jumping and dancing around Jed while he laughed and tried to pet him. She had convinced herself that what she had seen in the woods had been a deer or a play of light, and that Max's reaction had been caused by the motorcade's arrival. Still, deep down, in that spot she called women's intuition, was a niggling fear that what she and Max had seen in the woods was not a deer at all; but something more sinister, more predatory than any animal could be. 

Jed scratched behind Max's ears and smiled at his wife's approach. Her hair was windblown, her cheeks rosy from the wind, and she was engulfed in one of his old barn jackets. She looked utterly adorable. 

"It's nice to see color back in these cheeks," he told her and pinched one lightly. 

"Jed," she slapped his hand away. "I'm not a child." 

"No," he agreed. "You're not. Is this better?" He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers in a much more adult greeting. There was acceptance and response until the kiss began to deepen and he felt her body tense up. He reluctantly eased the pressure on her lips, but couldn't resist a quick peck on the tip of her nose. 

"You did make sure that I have all the ingredients for my chili, didn't you?" he asked as he linked her arm in his to lead her into the house. 

"Of course, you only reminded me fifty times in the last two days." 

"Well, it wouldn't be the Super Bowl without my five alarm chili." 

"You sure you aren't going to be too nervous to eat?" she smiled. He may have been preoccupied lately, but she knew just how important this game was to Jed. Hell, it was important to her too. 

"Even if I am, we have a lot of guests who WON'T be and they are looking forward to my chili." 

"They said that?" 

"Not in so many words. But I know they're thinking it. What about you? Don't tell me you don't have any butterflies in your stomach." 

"Not me. I have complete and utter faith in my boys." 

* * * * 

Later that afternoon, with the cooking done and the TV droning on showing highlights from every past Super Bowl, Abbey reclined on the couch reading a book while Jed played with the kids on the floor. She glanced up at the ringing of the doorbell and smiled as she watched her husband. Wearing old jeans, a Patriots sweatshirt, and his socks, he was helping Aislinn learn to walk by allowing her to hold on to his fingers as she toddled unsteadily across the carpet. 

"I'll go see them in," she said, placing her book down and sliding her glasses off. 

"It's your guests, ma'am," said the agent who had opened the door. 

"Yes, I can see that, Paul, "Abbey swallowed a smile. The agent nodded feeling a slight thrill that the First Lady remembered his name. While the President rarely remembered anyone but Ron, the First Lady had a razor sharp memory for names. While she chafed at times about having protection, she always treated her agents with warmth and humanity often asking how they were and about their families. Paul remembered one time when she had asked about his family, he had told her that his daughter had the flu. Two days later, when he was back on her detail, she actually remembered that and asked how she was doing. Things like that had caused the men on Abbey's detail to view her as more than just a "job" and all were personally, as well as professionally, committed to keeping her safe. 

"Vinatieri, eh?" Josh said as they all eyed the First Lady in her jeans and oversized, authentic blue football jersey with the big number 4 on her chest. "Not too many kickers have fans wearing their shirts." 

"Hey, Adam's the man," Abbey said, leading them toward the living room. 

"And he's a cutie," Amy grinned. 

"Didn't I see you in a Bledsoe jersey one Sunday earlier this year?" Leo asked. He frequently joined the Bartlets for football sundays. 

"Bledsoe's old news," Abbey stated. "Right now it's all about Brady and Brown and most of all Adam Vinatieri. Without him we wouldn't be in the Super Bowl." 

Josh and Sam were eyeing the First Lady with awe. They had assumed that she, CJ and Amy would go sit in the kitchen and talk girly stuff, and yet, here she was spouting off vast knowledge of her football team. Jed watched them with amusement. He had seen many men taken aback by his wife's knowledge of the game. 

"Abbey's cutthroat, guys, so you better watch out. If you don't perform, you don't play." Jed almost bit his tongue realizing the sexual connotations of that statement and how his wife would have a field day with it. Abbey acknowledged the statement with a raised brow and a half smile sent his way to let him know that she had caught the double entendre but was letting it slide. 

"That's not entirely true, Jed. You know I feel sorry for Drew, but hell, you can't continually choke in the big games. Tommy's not going to choke. He's young and brash and doesn't have anything to lose. OK, who wants a beer?" 

"You can close your mouths, guys," Jed grinned. 

"I'll have a Heineken," Toby said. He was well aware of the President's penchant for that German beer. 

"Not today, boys," Jed boomed. "Today is the day of the Patriots and we are taking that theme all the way. The fridge is loaded with AMERICAN beer only." 

"Now that was his rule, not mine," Abbey said as she took a pull from a bottle of Michelob light. 

A few minutes later, Abbey came out to pass around Mich lights for the women and Michs for the men who said they wouldn't be caught dead drinking a light beer. Light beers were for chicks. 

Before long, everyone was at the buffet filling plates with chips and taco dip, barbecued wings, buffalo strips, pizza, and, of course, bowls of spicy chili. Also, it being a Bartlet feast, there were vegetable and fruit dips as well, "in case anyone decides to eat healthy" as Abbey had said. 

"You know," CJ said, putting her plate on the coffee table so she could pull Aislinn up into her lap. "I don't watch much football." 

"Just sit by me," Abbey assured her. "I'll talk you through it." 

* * * * 

"SON OF A BITCH!" Abbey exploded. With less than two minutes left to the game, the St. Louis Rams had just tied the game at 17, and it looked like things would be going into overtime. 

"I can NOT believe they just blew a fucking 14 point lead," Jed fumed. 

With the language that had been flying this last quarter, CJ thought it was a darn good thing that the Bartlet babies were sleeping away in their cribs upstairs. "Well, didn't you guys say there is some kind of curse on your team?" she asked. 

"That's the RED SOX," both Jed and Abbey burst out at the same time. 

The mood the room lightened after a long pass play got the Patriots to within field goal range with just seconds left to the game. It would be a long field goal but certainly not out of Vinatieris's range. 

"Oh Jesus, I can't watch, " Jed groaned. 

"You have to," Abbey urged him. "He's going to make history. I'm telling you there is no way Adam is going to miss this." 

The room was dead silent as the field goal kicker took his place and everyone held their breath. In the next moment those breaths were expelled in whoops of joy, at least from Jed and Abbey who were on their feet hugging each other in disbelief and excitement. 

"Mr. President," Leo said, walking forward with a phone. "I believe that you are going to have a phone call to make." Jed grinned broadly. 

"This is going to be the BEST Presidential phone call I've ever made." The boyish giddiness in his tone caused all in the room to smile. They knew just how happy he was to be calling Bill Belichick to congratulate the Pats on their victory. They had been with him a couple years back when he had been forced to swallow his disgust and call the New York Yankees to congratulate them on their World Series victory and knew how happy he was to have called the Diamondbacks this year instead. But this, well, this phone call would be the absolute best. 

* * * * 

After Jed made his phone call and their guests prepared to leave, Abbey took Max out for a quick walk. The dog seemed fine now and totally relaxed, but her eyes immediately went to where she had seen the shadow move. The floodlights the Service used now lightened the woods, and she didn't see any movement at all. She knew that she was being paranoid, but she still felt a funny sort of apprehension about the whole situation. 

Once Max had done his business, she turned to go back inside. It was too cold to dawdle for long. She stood in the small mudroom and slipped her boots off, then stood to pull her sweatshirt off. Leo had opened the door to get his coat and stood transfixed in the doorway. As Abbey pulled the sweatshirt up over her head, it lifted the shirt she wore underneath up as well. Up it went, first exposing the subtle curves of her hips encased in jeans, then higher to reveal the soft skin of her flat belly and that sexy little belly button. Still it went higher, up over her ribs until it caught on the swells of her full breasts. The quick flash of her lacy red bra nearly caused him to groan out loud, but, instead, he stood quietly gazing at the naked expanse of her torso. 

CJ saw a strange look on Leo's face as he stood in the doorway to the mudroom. It reminded her of the one she had seen on his face the previous summer. Some type of incredible, almost painful longing. Then Toby called his name and the look was gone so quickly CJ wondered if she had imagined it. It was something he was obviously adept at hiding. She watched Leo leave and moved forward to see what he had been looking at. She saw Abbey pushing her shirt down over her bare midriff as she moved to hang her sweatshirt. She could tell that the First Lady had no idea that she had been watched. CJ could clearly see impending disaster up ahead for them all if what she had seen was a true indication as to how Leo felt. She shuddered to think what would have happened if the President had caught Leo eyeing his wife that way. 

"Oh God, Leo," she muttered under her breath. "What are you thinking?" 

* * * * 

Jed awoke the next morning in state of arousal after an incredibly vivid erotic dream. Abbey was snuggled up to him, her breath feather light over his nipple. Her hand was low on his belly. VERY low, and so damn close to that part of him that ached to be touched. He shut his eyes tightly willing his body to stop this pulsing and throbbing. Abbey shifted slightly in her sleep and he groaned as her hand instinctively cupped him and her knee came up to drape her inner thigh over his hips. He quickly opened his eyes hoping that she was awake and knew exactly what she was doing. But, she wasn't. These moves had been made with pure instinct. In sleep, her body knew what it wanted and needed; it was only when she was awake that the wariness crept. Jed fought back the urge to press his hips up against her hand. He didn't like the feeling he had of taking advantage of her while she slept. In the past that wouldn't have bothered him. He would have lifted that nightgown higher over her hips and rubbed himself against her softness until she awakened with soft sleepy moans and began to stroke him to even higher arousal. Oh Christ, thinking about it wasn't helping matters. He felt like a teenager again filled with desire and nowhere to release it, but he would be damned if he would resort to a teenager's means of relief. He gently lifted Abbey's thigh from his hips and rolled away from her to slide out of bed and hit the shower. 

Half asleep, Abbey reached a hand out to touch Jed and instead touched empty mattress. She blinked her eyes and looked at the clock. Jed didn't have to be back in D.C. for a while and she was surprised he was up so early. Then again, they had hardly lain in bed cuddling recently. She heard the shower running and moved to the bathroom. Inside, she slipped her hand behind the curtain to let Jed know she was up and gasped at the cold water that touched her skin. 

"Jed, are you nuts?" she called out. He wanted to shout back, "No, I'm horny," but didn't want her to feel guilty about that. 

"No, I just needed a brisk shower to wake up." 

Abbey's eyes narrowed as she gazed at the shower curtain. She knew he was lying. Like most men, Jed often awoke aroused and she couldn't recall how many times in their marriage that he had awakened her with sex. She had often teased him that an early morning tumble was a hell of a lot better way to wake up than an alarm clock. The fact that he was even afraid to tell her that he was horny showed a widening gulf in that intimate part of their lives. 

She moved to the sink and began her morning ablutions still half-asleep. She brushed her teeth and then, while she rinsed with mouthwash, reached into the medicine cabinet for her pills. She frowned when she didn't feel the round package by Jed's shaving cream where it always was. She began to move things around certain that they must have just gotten moved, but she couldn't find them anywhere in the cabinet. 

"Jed," she turned as he stepped out of the shower. "Did you do something with my birth control pills?" 

Jed looked at her as if she had two heads. 

"Abigail, what the hell would I do with your birth control pills? Last I heard, they controlled ovulation not sperm mobility." 

"Do you see me laughing?" she eyed him. 

"Well, what did you think I would do with them?" 

"I don't know," she said exasperated. "Moved them or something." 

"No, dear. I have not touched your birth control pills. Are you sure you brought them?" 

"I know we haven't had sex for a while, Jed, but after what happened the last time, I can assure that I brought them. I know I had them here. I took one yesterday morning." 

"I'm sure they'll turn up. If not, can't you just get the prescription refilled?" 

"Yes. It's just weird. I mean where would they have gone?" 

As Abbey began to dress, she started to get the strange feeling that somebody had been in her things. There was nothing obvious – just the cover not being twisted on her talcum powder and the feeling that things had been moved on her vanity. She might not have noticed if she wasn't such a neat freak, but she always kept her perfumes on one side and make-up on the other and she had found two lipsticks on the perfume side. Then, as she moved to dress and opened her lingerie drawer, she was sure somebody had been in there. While she liked to keep her bra and panty sets folded together blue with blue, black with black, everything was now a jumbled mess. She turned to look at Jed who was seated on the bed wearing just his shirt and boxers as he put his socks on. 

"Jed, have you been in my lingerie drawer?" 

Jed gave her a long steady look. 

"I'm not sure where you are going with this or what you think I have been up to Miss. Mata Hari, but I am not into cross dressing or wearing women's underwear all of the sudden, and I am not taking birth control pills." 

"JED, this isn't funny!" she exclaimed and Jed could see she was on the verge of tears. 

"Abbey, why are you getting so worked up?" He moved toward her. 

"Because I feel like the three bears. I know someone's been going through my stuff. I want to know who the HELL Goldilocks is. 

* * * * 

Ron sat in front of the President and First Lady in the living room at Harmony Point while the First Lady tried to convince him that someone had been in her room. 

"What do you think was taken?" Ron asked. 

"As far as I could tell, my birth control pills, a bottle of _Chanel_ perfume and a leopard print bra and panty set." To his credit, Ron didn't show any emotion at the mention of the First Lady's underwear. 

"You're sure that you had these items here and didn't just leave them at the White House?" 

Abbey looked at them with incredulity. She had forgotten her pills ONCE in her life and that had resulted in the babies Izzy was feeding breakfast to in the next room. Did they honestly think she would forget again? 

"No. I know they were here. I took one of the pills here yesterday morning, and, contrary to what you might hear about me, I only have one leopard print set of lingerie, so yes, I know it is missing. And the perfume was a Christmas gift from Annie, so I wear it a lot. I'm telling you that someone went through my stuff and took things." 

"Well, you did have guests here yesterday. Do you think any of them might have gone in and taken anything?" 

"I don't think Amy or CJ would have need for MY prescription birth control pills and I don't think we have any cross dressers on staff," Abbey said sarcastically. 

"What about your new housekeeper?" 

"Mrs. Anderson?" Abbey laughed. "She's 65 years old, I don't think she needs to be on the Pill anymore and I think leopard print is a little risqué for her." 

"Just because she wouldn't use it doesn't mean she didn't take it. Do you know what a prescription made out to you could bring someone on eBay? Even articles of clothing or perfume could bring big money." 

"You think someone stole my stuff to sell on EBAY?" Abbey asked with astonishment. 

"That has to be illegal," Jed added. 

"It is. We'll keep our eye open and see if anything pops up." 

"Then you don't think it's HIM?" 

"No," Ron said. "He couldn't have gotten in here. As I said before, I am really leaning toward believing it is somebody on the domestic staff who is helping him." 

"Ron, I'd like to take self-defense classes." The words came rushing out as if Abbey was afraid she wouldn't be able to get them out if she didn't do it quickly. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Could you get one of the agents to give me some self defense classes? Teach me some moves." 

"Mrs. Bartlet, that really isn't necessary. You aren't going to need to defend yourself." 

"Maybe not, but I'd feel better if I COULD. Look, I know I'm small and I know I don't have a chance against this guy. That was painfully obvious when he attacked me. I need a fighting chance. Ron, that's all I'm asking for." 

Jed felt a pang grip his chest at her request, and he looked at her with surprise. He hadn't known that she had been worried about any of this or was contemplating asking Ron about self-defense. 

Ron stared at her for a long moment seeing the emotions playing out in her eyes. He didn't like the idea that she didn't think the Service could protect her, but he could also see that she needed to become proactive to regain some control of the situation. 

"Well, like I said, you aren't going to need it, but if it will make you feel better, I will give you some self defense classes myself and teach you some moves to protect yourself." 

"Thank you, Ron." 

* * * * 

Marcus Hughes sat at the counter of "Lucy's", a small diner in Port Harmony. He wore a baseball cap down low over his forehead, in case any members of the Secret Service were hanging around. He sat at the counter and listened to the chatter around him. It was obvious that the town was filled with excitement over the fact that the President and First Lady had a home there now and were in town for the weekend. It was all anyone seemed to be talking about. 

"That Abigail Bartlet is so nice," one woman said. "She likes to sneak into town to shop wearing baseball caps and sunglasses, but when she came in the General Store I knew who it was right away. I saw those serious looking agents milling around behind her." 

"Oh, June," said another woman, "You've got to tell me. What did she buy?" 

"She bought a package of sugarfree gum and some teething biscuits. Then she saw my fresh baked blueberry muffins and said that the President has a sweet tooth and a soft spot for blueberries, so she bought a half dozen. She was so nice. I told her she didn't have to pay. I was thrilled just to have her in the store, but she insisted. She said she hates being shut away from the world and wants to continue to sneak into town. She was just like a regular person." 

"Hey, you're new in town, aren't you?" the other woman turned to Marcus who was sulking a bit with all the talk of the President. 

"Yes." 

"Just passing through or staying a while?" 

"Oh, I'll be here a little while. At least until Valentine's Day." 

He took his coffee and moved to a booth where he could think in peace, then ordered a piece of apple pie and vanilla ice cream. Couldn't get any more American than that. Soon, he would be the envy of every man in America that had ever dreamed of putting it to the First Lady. He smiled at the thought. Yes, it was his patriotic duty as an American male to give Abigail Bartlet a bang for all the poor schmucks out there who watched her with a hard on while she swayed her ass in those short tight skirts and flashed those sexy legs on the news. Or those pathetic losers who used her Cosmo photo layout in the bathroom like a Playboy centerfold. Yes, he would be their hero. His power over her would be complete. 

He felt the surge of excitement that a predator has when getting close to his prey. Soon he would be the victor, and to the victor goes the spoils. He stuck his hand in his pocket and fingered the silky bra he had stuffed in there feeling an almost orgasmic thrill. He was closing in on the perfect day that he had chosen to take his love. Soon, Abigail, he thought, soon the hunt will be over and you will be mine. 


	9. Love and Rage

"Look, I need a break from this," Jed said. He took his glasses off and began to rub is eyes as he set his copy of the State of the Union speech down and looked over his desk at his staff. "Nicholas is sick, so I'm going up to go check on him and have a quick bite to eat. Then I'll come back and we can spend some more time on it." 

He received nods of acceptance and a chorus of "thank you, Mr. President's" as they gathered their speech copies and left the room. 

Jed looked at his watch as he entered the mansion. Ten o'clock. No wonder he was starving. He'd worked through the dinner he'd told Abbey he would eat in the Oval Office. Somehow, he had to get around letting her find out about that. He set his briefcase down in the hall and peeked into the nursery to see how Nicholas was doing. The room was dark save for the dim shine of the night-lights that cast a soft glow over Abbey, who was in her bathrobe rocking the baby to sleep. Nicholas lay cuddled to her breasts sucking his thumb while she stroked his hair and sang softly, pausing every few bars to kiss the top of his head. 

"How's he doing?" Jed whispered as he knelt beside the rocking chair to get a better look at his son. Nicholas weakly opened his fever bright eyes. 

"He hasn't vomited in a couple hours, but his temp was still 102.3 a half hour ago; so I gave him some more Tylenol. I'll check it again in a little while." 

"Has he kept anything down yet?" He touched a finger gently to his son's cheek. It felt like he was burning up and Jed could hear the congestion in every rasping breath Nicholas took. 

"Just a couple ounces of Pedialyte. But that's better than nothing. At least he won't dehydrate." 

"Poor kid. I have to get back down to the office. I just wanted to check up on you guys. Is there anything you need help with before I leave?" 

"No, we'll be fine." Abbey smiled gently down at their son. 

"OK, then." He bent to kiss Nicholas on his warm forehead. "Goodnight, son. I hope you feel better. Daddy loves you." 

He stood and watched Abbey rock Nicholas for a few more moments. There were few more warm or tender sights than that of a mother rocking her child to sleep. And when that woman was your wife and that child your blood, the feeling was magnified to even greater proportions. Reluctantly, he began to walk toward the door. As he reached for the knob, he heard Nicholas whimper and he stopped short. He turned back and noticed the baby's eyes were open and he was watching him. 

"Go to sleep, sport," he called out softly, then turned to open the door. Nicholas began to fuss. 

"Da," he whimpered while he squirmed in Abbey's arms to get down. 

Jed let go of the doorknob and turned back, not sure if he'd really heard his son just call for him. He moved back toward Abbey, and Nicholas reached his arms out to him. 

"Da…da…dada," he babbled. 

"I think he wants you." Abbey laughed at the look of amazement on Jed's face. She'd seen that same look every time one of their children learned to call him by name. 

"He just said my name." Jed's tone was incredulous as he reached out to take the boy from Abbey. "You want your dada, Nicky?" he asked. 

"Dada," Nicholas said again, then tucked his head under Jed's chin and stuck his thumb back in his mouth. 

"I'll rock him to sleep," Jed said as he took the chair Abbey had vacated so she could fix the covers over a soundly sleeping Aislinn. 

"I thought you needed to get back to the office?" 

"I do." Jed thought about the sandwich with his name on it in the kitchen, then brushed his lips against his son's silky blond hair. Suddenly, he didn't feel so hungry. "But I have some time to spare. Besides I'm the boss. It's not like they can start without me." 

"Well, if you're going to stay here, I'm going to bed. Try to give him some more of this while he's awake." She handed him a bottle filled with clear liquid. 

"What's that?" 

"It's the Pedialyte. It will keep him from dehydrating, especially if he continues to vomit." 

"OK. Go relax. I'll take care of things here." 

* * * * 

By the time Jed returned to his bedroom after getting Nicholas to sleep and spending a couple more hours in his office, it was well after one. Abbey was sound asleep as he slid under the covers next to her. He was just starting to doze off when he felt her begin to stir. In the next few moments, she began to moan and whimper softly. He rolled over to touch her hip and felt her whole body shaking. 

"Abbey?" He quickly turned the light on beside their bed and saw her huddled with her knees drawn to her chest, her face streaked with tears. She was shaking so badly her teeth were chattering. And she was awake. 

"Abbey? What is it? What's wrong?" He reached a hand out to touch her shoulder and Abbey flinched at his touch. 

"Don't, baby," he groaned. "God, don't shrink away from me." He pulled her towards him spooning himself around her back and running his hand soothingly over the curve of her hip in an effort to still her shaking form. 

"It's just another nightmare," her voice was catching with the effort it was taking for her not to cry. "I'll be fine in a minute. Just let me catch my breath." 

"Another nightmare?" he asked against her neck. "Have you woken up like this before?" Jed's accusatory question was met by silence. 

"Abbey, I asked you a question. Have you been waking up like this?" 

"Yes, OK. Yes." 

"How many times?" 

"I don't know, Jed." 

"HOW many times, Abigail?" 

"Every night," the words were whispered softly, almost shamefully. 

"Did you just say every night?" He rolled her over so he could look into her face. 

"Yes," Abbey choked, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" He ran his thumbs under eyes and let her warm tears run over them. 

"Jed, look at what this is doing to you. Because of me, you're worried, you're angry, you have your own nightmares to contend with AND you have a country to run. That's what is important." 

"First of all, it's not BECAUSE of you, and second of all, you are just as important to me as running the country is. Don't you forget that. You're the most important thing in the world to me." 

"Jed…" 

"No, Abbey, I mean it. Don't hide things from me. You're my wife. Let me be here for you. These nightmares, are they always the same? About the attack?" 

"The rape. Jed, you can say it. Yes, they started off mostly just reliving the rape, but lately they've gotten worse." 

"I don't know how it could have gotten worse. Unless…Oh God, in your nightmare, does he kill you?" 

"No," she buried her face into his neck. "He kills you." 

"Me?" 

"Yes." She kept her face buried in his neck feeling the reassuring beat of his heart. 

"He made you watch while he raped me, then he shot you and he was taking me away to be his forever." 

"Never, Abbey. That's never going to happen. I promise you, sweetheart." But even as he uttered the reassuring words, Jed knew a deep-seated fear that no matter what he did or how much protection he gave her, it might not be enough to keep her safe. 

* * * * 

"Abbey, you need to get more sleep." Jed stood buttoning his shirt while he watched his wife. Wearing only a silk slip, Abbey was seated at her vanity table dabbing concealer over the dark circles under her eyes and blending it in. She was artfully applying her make-up to conceal the effect that night after night of restless sleeping was having on her. 

"I'm fine, Jed." 

"Well, you won't be for long if you don't start getting some sleep. Shut the monitor off and let Izzy take care of the twins tonight." 

"Jed, I'm their mother. As long as I am physically here and capable of taking care of them, I should be the one to do so." 

"Everyone needs help, Abigail, and unfortunately I can't be as much help as I normally would be. You're not getting any sleep as it is. Getting up with the twins is just running you down even more. If you keep it up, you WON'T be physically able to care for them because you are going to make yourself sick." 

"Maybe I don't want to sleep. Did you ever think of that?" The words were thrown out harshly as she began to yank the brush through her hair. 

"What? Abbey, you need to sleep." 

"Do you think it's fun? Night after night reliving everything over and over and over until I wake up sweating and crying and unable to breathe." 

"Oh, Abbey." He stepped toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "What about a sleeping pill? That might help." 

"I don't want to start relying on sleeping pills." 

"Just try it for one night and see if you can get one full night of sleep." 

"What's happening to me, Jed?" she turned wide plaintive eyes to him. "I don't even know who I am anymore." 

"Don't worry," he cupped her face. "I know who you are and I'm never going to let you forget that." 

* * * * 

"Mr. President." Ron approached Jed as he returned from a morning engagement. "We've made some progress in our investigation. Do you have some time?" 

Jed gazed at Leo knowing that his day was stacked with meetings and practice sessions for the State of the Union, which was coming in just a few days. 

"Yes," Jed said firmly. Leo nodded and scurried off to work on some quick schedule revisions. 

"We found the apartment where Marcus Hughes has been staying." 

"Did you…" 

"No," Ron interrupted. "He wasn't there and from the looks of things, he hasn't been there for a little while. But what we found was quite disturbing." 

"What was that?" 

"Sir, the walls were covered with pictures of your wife. He had a bookcase filled with videotapes of Mrs. Bartlet in news clips and interviews and speaking at events. C-SPAN seemed to be his channel of choice." 

"I want to see it, Ron," Jed stated forcefully. 

"I don't think that is a wise idea, Mr. President. The press follows you everywhere. We don't want Hughes to know that we are on to him. We have his apartment under surveillance, and we're leaving everything the way it was, in the hopes that he will return home and we will catch him. I do have a video tape that we took of some of the evidence." 

Jed took the tape from Ron and they moved into his study where he was able to pop it in the VCR. He felt all the air leave his lungs and his legs grow weak as he watched the camera pan wall after wall of pictures of Abbey. Newspaper and magazine photos as well as pictures he had taken himself. Pictures of her at the hospital talking to colleagues, at an outdoor café lunching with Millie, picking Elizabeth up from school, teaching Ellie how to ride her pony, swinging Zoey in the park. His eyes closed for a moment as the camera focused on a picture of his wife's nude body. 

"We think that was taken in the doctor's changing room," Ron said quietly. "We think it's an old picture, not a recent one." 

"It is," Jed said knowingly. 

"You're sure?" 

"Yeah, My wife has a tattoo right here." He pointed on the TV screen to the spot on his wife's anatomy where her tattoo was. She only got it about 15 years ago and it's missing in this picture, so it had to be taken before then…Oh my God, WAIT, pause it." His face blanched as the camera panned along the wall at more pictures. 

"What is it, sir?" 

"My God. It wasn't just a random violent act that day. This guy was stalking her long before he raped her." 

"How do you know that?" 

"Because look at this picture that he took of Abbey walking holding Ellie's hand." 

"Yeah, what does that have to do…" 

"She has Zoey in that front pack. She only used that until the babies were around six months, then she would put them in the backpack." 

"Yes?" 

"Zoey was TWO when Abbey was raped. That means the son of a bitch was stalking her for a little over a year before he attacked her. It wasn't a random act at all. It was carefully planned. Jesus Christ, Ron, he was following her around taking her pictures, watching her undress in the doctor's changing room. He was HUNTING her down." He began to pace the room, his hands clenched into tight fists. 

"It certainly fits his MO." 

"Is there anything else that I should know?" Jed bit out. 

"In some of the pictures where Mrs. Bartlet was with you and the babies, he cut your head off and transposed his in its place as if he would take your place as husband and father. In others, he cut the babies out as well. And in the really angry ones…" Ron paused the tape and Jed looked at the screen in horror. On several large photos where Abbey was on his arm, mostly in glittering eveningwear, the words "BITCH", "SLUT", and "WHORE" were written maliciously in red marker. But it was the largest photo on the wall that caused the blood to rush so quickly though Jed's veins, he had to sit back against his desk. It was one of the barn photos that had been sent to Abbey's father. The one with Abbey on her knees pleasuring him. Slashed across the photo in that blood red ink were the words "DIE WHORE." 

Jed turned away and took a deep breath. He had known that Hughes wanted his wife, but this was the first evidence he'd seen of the man's completely irrational and insane rage. The word "DIE" had frightened him as no other had. He moved slowly to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a stiff shot of scotch to calm his nerves. What he really wanted was a cigarette. 

"Mr. President?" 

"I'm OK, Ron. Go ahead." 

"It's obvious that he is very conflicted right now, so that makes it hard to know what exactly he wants. He either wants to take you out of the way, so he can take over your position as Mrs. Bartlet's husband and father of her children; or he can't stand the idea of the babies at all, so they need to be taken out of the equation. What he really wants is Mrs. Bartlet, but even that is conflicted. He wants her but she angers him when she doesn't follow his "plan" for her, thus the need to punish her with the harsh words." 

"Do you think he'll go back to the apartment?" 

"He's smart. I'll give him that. But, he has been collecting these images of your wife for twenty years minus his stay in prison. It's anybody's guess how long he can stay away before he'll need a 'fix'." 

"Let's just hope that the 'fix' is him looking at pictures of my wife and not actually trying to touch her." 

When Ron left the office, Jed poured himself another stiff shot and sat at his desk with a debate clamoring in his head. He had just berated Abbey for not sharing everything with him, but how could he tell her about this den of twisted depravity and of the hideously sick shrine to her. The idea that Hughes had been following her and taking pictures of her with her friends and the kids, at home and in the city, could very well send her over the edge. The fact that he had nude shots, along with the graphic sexual photos from the barn and that raiding Secret Service agents had seen all these would humiliate her beyond belief. Abbey had never been ashamed of her body, but neither was she an exhibitionist. He had himself experienced embarrassment at those barn photos. Somehow, in black and white, an act that was meant to be so loving and giving and beautiful suddenly looked merely pornographic. 

He was still lost in thought when Leo entered the room. The Chief of Staff eyed the bottle of scotch and the empty shot glass on the desk in front of the President. 

"Drinking alone during the afternoon, Mr. President?" Leo lifted his brow. He was teasing Jed, but he was also worried. Not that the President was a closet alcoholic, but that something had to have happened to cause him to behave out of character like this. The President did not drink alone in the middle of the day. 

"Yeah, well, they don't let me smoke in here." 

Leo was about to ask what was bugging him, when he turned and saw the image frozen on the TV. It was the picture he had briefly seen when Ron had shown it to Jed in the first place. But when he had seen the sexually explicit nature of it, he had turned away out of respect for the President and First Lady. But now he couldn't help but stare. It was the body of his dreams performing one of the more wanton acts of his dreams. She was so beautifully erotic with her head tipped back and her coppery hair flowing over her slender shoulders and back. Her breasts were lush and full and tipped with pink rose-colored nipples. Her waist was slim, her hips a gentle, graceful curve; and, God help him, he finally knew for sure that Abbey Bartlet was a natural redhead. His eyes held for a slight moment on the tattoo just above the curve of her rear. The tattoo proclaiming she belonged to JDB. JDB. Josiah Daniel Bartlet. His best friend. The proclamation was as startling as a bucket of ice water in his face and it was only then that he noticed the words "DIE WHORE" evilly scrawled across the photo. Any lascivious thoughts fled from his mind at the abomination of those words. 

"Leo," Jed warned. He had assumed Leo's staring outrage had been caused by the words on the picture, but his wife was NAKED in the photo and Leo had been looking at it an awfully long time. 

"Sorry." Leo turned back to him. "Is it Hughes who wrote that?" 

"Yeah, they found his apartment with hundreds of pictures and videos of Abbey. Look, I've got to go talk to her. I'll be back in a little while." 

* * * * 

Jed had made up his mind to tell Abbey they had found Hughes apartment but not the extent of what they had found there. She would just have to forgive him that little omission and she would, when this was all over. He stepped into Abbey's East Wing office nearly tripping over the seemingly hundreds of gifts that filled the room. 

"What is all this?" he asked. 

"Presents for Aislinn and Nicholas from all over the world." Abbey's secretary Lucy tried not to stutter. She had gotten used to the fact that she worked for the First Lady, but when the President made one of his infrequent visits, she could still get tongue-tied. "We're going through them so we can send thank you notes to the people who sent them, but Mrs. Bartlet wants to donate the gifts to children's hospitals, orphanages and homeless shelters around the country." 

Jed nodded his approval. "Is she in her office?" 

"Yes, sir." Lucy paused a moment waiting for the bellow of "ABIGAIL" that was the President's usual way of getting his wife's attention as he didn't believe in intercoms. However, this time he stepped forward to knock lightly on the door. When he didn't get a response, he entered slowly. 

Abbey's head lay on her desk pillowed on her arm. Her glasses had slipped off her nose. She was asleep. 

"Abbey?" Jed said softly as he approached. She didn't stir at the call of her name. He knelt beside her leather chair pushing her wavy auburn hair back further from her face. Her face was pale and he could see the faint gray smudges under her eyes attesting to her lack of sleep in the night. Her cheekbones stood out starkly now against her thin face. She looked delicate and fragile and he was reminded of a breakable China doll. How much more would it take before she would break? He was overcome with tenderness and an aching sadness. 

"Abbey," he said again softly. This time he pressed his lips to her cheek. 

"NO! DON'T TOUCH ME!" She bolted right awake shoving at him so that he fell back on his rear. She drew her hands up over her chest in a classic self-defense move and her eyes were wild with fear. Adrenaline began to jolt through her veins. 

"Abbey," he touched her leg as he started to get to his feet. 

"Don't," this time the word was a plea. "Please don't." 

"Abbey, it's me. It's Jed, honey." Abbey looked down at him kneeling before her motionless. He was afraid if he stood he would scare her; and he knew, at that moment, that he could never tell her about the lair of Marcus Hughes. 

Suddenly, awareness and comprehension filled her eyes and she sank to her knees in front of him. 

"Oh my God, Jed, I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?" 

"No, you just scared the hell out of me," he grinned ruefully. 

"Well YOU shouldn't have scared me," she admonished him. She was still trembling and out of breath. 

"Abbey, I kissed your cheek." 

Abbey looked at the ground ashamed and embarrassed by her reaction. Jed kissed the top of her head then gently lifted her chin. 

"It's OK, Abs. No harm done." 

Abbey nodded and pressed her fingers into her throbbing temples. Jed had seen that particular gesture many times. 

"Do you have a headache?" he asked. 

"Yeah," she admitted. 

Jed pulled her to her feet and had her sit back in her chair. Abbey leaned her head back and closed her eyes. 

"Do you have any aspirin?" he asked. 

"Top left drawer," she said without opening her eyes. 

Jed opened the drawer and saw a large bottle of Advil and an even larger bottle of Tums. It was almost empty. 

"Abbey, you've been popping these things like candy lately." He held up the bottle of Tums. 

"Oh, Jed, you're exaggerating a little bit, don't you think?" She tried to tease him out of his worry, but he wasn't having any of that. 

"No, I don't. What I think is that you are damn close to having an ulcer over this." 

"Jed, I'm a doctor. I think I'd know if I was close to having an ulcer." 

"Not that you'd admit it." 

"There's the pot calling the kettle black." 

"Abbey, we're not talking about me here. You've lost weight, you're barely eating enough to keep a bird alive, and your clothes are almost hanging off you…" 

"I thought men liked anorexic looking women," she tried to tease him through her tears. 

"Not this man. I don't want a woman who is all bones. I want your soft, sexy curves." 

"Well, I'm sorry you don't find me attractive anymore, Jed." 

"Abbey," he pleaded. 

"You can go to hell," she choked as she turned away from him. 

"Abbey, that's not what I meant. It's not that I don't find you attractive, baby. I'm scared. I'm scared for your health. It isn't just the weight loss. It's the fact that you aren't sleeping. There are circles under your eyes and you jump when people touch you. You have headaches all the time and you're popping these Tums like crazy. Will you please have a physical?" 

"Jed, I'm fine. It's just the stress of everything that's going on." 

"I know that, but maybe Dr. Hill can give you something." 

"Yeah, some advice. She'll tell me to alleviate the stress in my life. Well, you know something, Jed? That isn't going to happen until Marcus Hughes is behind bars again." 

There was nothing Jed could say to that. Abbey was absolutely right. He handed her the pills she had asked for and watched while she washed them down with a swallow of her bottled water. When she was finished, he put out his hand and led her to the couch. 

"Lay down," Jed ordered. "The other Dr. Bartlet is going to take it from here." Abbey stretched out on the couch with her head in his lap as she had a hundred times before, and Jed began to give her a soft forehead massage. Slowly, she felt her body begin to relax and give in to the relief and pleasure his talented fingers were giving her. She shivered as his fingers moved into her hair massaging her scalp gently and gave a soft moan as they ran from the tops of her ears up to her temples. 

"If you don't stop making sounds like that lady, I'm gonna have to quit," he teased her. 

"I can't help it," she protested. "It feels so damn good." 

Jed smiled down at her running his finger over her nose and across her soft lips. There used to be a lot of things that she thought felt good he reflected with sadness and not a little frustration. He kept up his ministrations until she was breathing deep and even. Then, he slid out from under her placing a pillow where his lap had been. He found a tartan throw at the end of the couch and draped it over her. 

"Sweet dreams, Abigail," he murmured as he kissed her forehead. And more than any time that he had ever said it before, Jed meant that with all his heart. 


	10. Love and Rage

Leo sat at his desk trying to wrap his mind around the latest budget figures that he held in his hand. As he tried to concentrate, the monetary figures began to swim before his eyes and his thoughts wandered back to the picture of Abbey on that television screen. Every time he thought about his reaction, he was filled with self-loathing and disgust. In this instance, he felt that he was no better than Marcus Hughes was. He had felt lust and arousal over a photo that had been meant to be demeaning and hurtful. A picture meant to embarrass and scare two of his best friends. There was something sick and twisted about that. He didn't give himself any credit for the fact that once he had seen what was written on the photo, his arousal had turned to outrage. 

He gave only a fleeting thought to the comforting notion that his response had been that of any healthy male. Abigail Bartlet was a gorgeous woman. He'd heard many a man say that the First Lady gave him a hard on, so it was only natural that seeing her naked would create that response in him as it would any man. He didn't allow himself that comfort because he knew that it was different for him. He wasn't any man. He was the trusted best friend of Abbey's husband and she herself was one of his closest friends. He alone knew the torture the couple was going through because of this man, and still he had felt that overwhelming stab of lust and longing for a woman who had never been his and never would be his. 

Leo's gaze fell to one of his very favorite pictures. Jenny had taken it just minutes after Jed had been declared the winner of the 1998 election and they had yet to change into their victory speech clothes. He and Jed were standing each with an arm around Abbey who stood between them. They all wore jeans and sweatshirts, and despite their exhaustion and the time of night, there was an energy and vitality to them all that was almost palpable. Their smiles were electrifying ones of joy and excitement. He gave a slight smile now as he remembered the sheer happiness he had felt at being part of an alliance with this couple and of all the good that they would accomplish together for the country and the world. Optimism had run strong that night and he had never felt closer to both Jed and Abbey as he had at that perfect moment. Somehow, he knew that he had to find a way to purge these feelings for Abbey from his soul before it destroyed his relationship with these two very important people in his life. 

Leo wearily slid the papers back into a manila folder and dropped it on his desk. He knew where he had to go. He had to get these feelings off his chest in the only way he knew how. The only way that nobody would get hurt. 

"Leo, where are you going?" Margaret asked as she watched her boss slip on his coat and head for the door. 

"Out," Leo said, shutting the door behind him as he strode down the hall. He wasn't about to admit to anyone that for the first time in years, Leo McGarry was going to confession. He hoped that penance and absolution might help remove the stench of self-reproach that cloaked him so heavily. 

* * * * 

Jed stepped out of the bathroom to see every inch of his bed covered with Abbey's "First Lady" suits. It was the morning of the State of the Union speech and she had still not quite decided what she was going to wear. He smiled as he watched her frown and toss outfit after outfit aside. 

"You know any of those will do fine," he informed her. "You look great no matter what you wear. Besides, I'm the one who has to stand up there and give the speech. You don't see me all worried about what I'm going to wear." 

"Yes, snuggle bear, but we all know that no matter what you say in your speech, the talk tomorrow will be all about the color of my dress or how I wear my hair." 

"At least it won't be about you going into labor this year," he smirked. Abbey started to give him a glare but it quickly turned to a smile of acknowledgment. It had certainly not been her smartest decision to attend Jed's State of the Union last year at eight months pregnant; especially, when she had been experiencing discomfort the whole night before. She remembered sitting there listening to the speech while the grinding pains got stronger and stronger, twisting her insides until it was all she could do not to scream. She remembered standing to leave in the middle of the speech praying that her water was not going to break right there on the floor of the U.S. Congress. An image of a class of children on a tour flashed through her mind. "And right here, class, in the year 2001, is the spot where First Lady Abigail Bartlet's water broke." 

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" she asked. 

"I can't. I'm so seldom proved right that when I am, I have to gloat." 

Jed watched her place a dark blue skirt to her waist and look into the full-length mirror with her had tilted to one side. He was filled with tenderness as he remembered that long agonizing night she had been through almost a year ago – a night that had culminated finally in the birth of their twins. As he placed his hands on her shoulders, one of those babies took that moment to let out a cry over the monitor. Abbey placed the skirt down on the bed and headed for the nursery. 

As she entered the nursery, she saw a present lying on the changing table. She searched the gift for a card but couldn't find one. The wrapping paper was little dancing elephants, so she assumed it was yet another present for the twins. All month long, they had been inundated with gifts. After settling Aislinn back down, she took the box and began to unwrap it. Jed was just walking down the hall to go to the office when he heard the terrified cry of his name. 

"Jed!" 

He raced to the nursery and found Abbey kneeling on the floor with a teal sleeveless silk blouse in her hands. She held it as if it were the most vile and offensive of items. 

"Abbey, what's wrong?" 

"I opened it. I shouldn't have opened it…" There was a tremor in her voice, and it was as if she were talking to herself and not him, as she seemed to be looking straight through him. 

"Opened what?" 

"The gift. It was here on the changing table. I thought it was for the kids. I didn't know." 

"Didn't know what?" He took the blouse from her hands and the strong scent of Abbey's perfume drifted over him as if the silk had been doused in it. 

"It was for me." She handed Jed the note that was in the box and he saw that the blouse wasn't the only item that had been sent. The leopard print bra that had been stolen from her lingerie drawer still lay in the bottom of the box. 

>   
>  __
> 
> Dearest Abigail, 
> 
> I'll be watching you tonight on TV. I want you to wear this blouse. My blouse. I searched far and wide to find a perfect replica. Do you remember this blouse? It's just like the one you were wearing the night that we made love. Wear it tonight and show me you are mine. Do NOT disobey me about this, my love. I sent your bra back, but I decided to keep the panties until we meet again. I think you can see now that I can get to you and to your children whenever I damn well please. I know exactly where your babies sleep, Abigail. 
> 
> Love, Marcus

* * * * 

"This is going to stop, Ron, and it's going to stop NOW." Jed was prowling the room with his fists in his pockets. The fierceness of his fury held a frightening intensity. 

"Sir, I…" 

"NO!" Jed exploded and with one sweep of his hands, he flung all the papers and paraphernalia off his study desk. Abbey jumped, startled by this act of violent anger, while Ron stared in shock at the rage storming inside his boss. He had never seen the President in such a violently emotional state. His face was red with anger; his blue eyes blazed with fury and his mussed hair fell over his forehead. "No more excuses," he seethed. "You do your fucking job and find this son of a bitch. He has the United States Secret Service looking like the goddamn Keystone Cops, and, meanwhile, he is terrorizing MY wife and threatening MY children!" 

"Maybe I should just wear it," Abbey's quiet, tremulous voice was at odds with her husband's wrath. 

"You can't be thinking about wearing that?" Jed was incredulous. 

"I don't know WHAT to think anymore." She got to her feet and began to pace as Jed had. Fear tore and clawed at her. _'I know exactly where your babies sleep.'_ Those words ran through her over and over until the abject terror nearly suffocated her. 

"You're NOT wearing that blouse," Jed said firmly. "I'm not going to let you sit there, letting him think you are HIS." 

"You think I WANT that? It makes me SICK to think about wearing it but…Oh Jesus, Jed, our BABIES," her voice broke on a choked sob and she fought to keep her composure. "Just let me do what he wants, and maybe he'll leave me the hell alone. If he's going to do something, why doesn't he just DO IT? God, I don't know how much more of this I can take." 

Anxiety and alarm were pushing her very close to the edge and Jed realized he was watching his wife unravel before his eyes. He drew in a ragged breath and swallowed his own outrage and concern as he tried to regain some self-control for Abbey's sake. 

"Abbey." He took her delicate wrists into his hands and looked deeply into her troubled eyes. "It's OK. Nobody is going to get to our babies." 

"You don't know that. He seems to be able to do whatever he wants. I have to protect them, Jed, and if that means demeaning myself by wearing that blouse, I will." 

"Ma'am," Ron interrupted. Both Jed and Abbey turned with surprise. They had forgotten that the agent was present in the room. "You shouldn't wear the blouse. You can't give in to his commands." 

"Why not?" Abbey demanded. "You can't seem to stop him. He does whatever he damn well pleases. Somebody has to stop him, Ron, and maybe that somebody is me." 

"All due respect, ma'am, that isn't going to stop him. It's just going to feed his fire. He will demand more and more and expect you to deliver. I don't think you are going to be up for or willing to cooperate when it comes to what he really wants from you." 

Abbey held the agent's gaze with her own for a long moment as the impact of his blunt statement hit her with the force of slap to the face. Ron saw the moment she grasped exactly what he meant and her hand moved out unconsciously to grasp the President's as a shudder ran through her body. 

* * * * 

Ron Butterfield left the President's study with a heavy heart and a determination to get to the bottom of what was going on here. He knew that Marcus Hughes could not be delivering these notes and objects in person, but he was at a loss as to just who was helping him. It was obvious now that he had been the one to steal the lingerie, the perfume and the birth control pills, but how he was doing that was still a mystery. They had gone through the dozens of members of the domestic staff and all had come up clean. Sure, some might be loyal to the previous administration, or not approve of the new administration, or the Bartlets; but none of that was a strong enough reason to suspect them of helping Marcus Hughes stalk the First Lady. It was time to look elsewhere. Time to look somewhere closer to home. In all his born days, Ron Butterfield never thought that he would be investigating members of his own staff – the men and women who were hired and trained to protect the President and his family. He never thought he could have a traitor in his midst. 

* * * * 

Abbey stood tiredly beside her bed and began to unbutton the red dress she had chosen to wear to the after speech party. For the speech itself, she had chosen a dark emerald green blouse to wear under her jacket. It was well after one and she was physically and emotionally exhausted. She always felt a bit self-conscious at these speeches, as she knew that at times the eyes of the entire country were on her, but tonight was different. Tonight, she had been very aware that somewhere out there HE was watching her. Watching her and planning some type of retaliation for her disobedience. 

Abbey wasn't the only one worried about revenge of some sort. Jed had sent her on her way to the bedroom saying that he wanted to check on the kids before bed. He wanted to make sure they were OK. She also wasn't the only one who thought of the words in that note. _'I know exactly where your babies sleep.'_ God, just thinking about that statement caused his fists to clench. He so badly wanted to smash his fists into Marcus Hughes face or ring his godforsaken neck. Tonight, he and Abbey had willfully disobeyed the bastard's despicable demands on her, and all they could do now was to wait to see what the payback would be. 

He stood in the nursery between the two cribs listening to his children softly breathing. One of Aislinn's tiny hands stuck through the bars of her crib and he gently pushed it back in. Nicholas lay snuggled to his little stuffed Tigger, his thumb firmly in his mouth. They were so small, so innocent and vulnerable. The idea that anyone would want to harm them in any way was so abhorrent to Jed that it made him nauseous. He ran his finger softly over Aislinn's brow and the baby girl latched on to it tightly with her small fist, just as she used to when he had stroked her cheek while she nursed. Tears of a fierce, overpowering love stung his eyes and he was overcome with an intense need to protect. Nobody was going to hurt his wife and children. He would make sure of that. 

* * * * 

Abbey's eyes opened sleepily as the light in the bedroom was turned on and Max went on high alert from where he slept at her feet. His deep warning growl turned to tail thumping contentment when he saw who was entering. She watched Jed approach the bed with a sleeping twin in each arm. 

"What are you doing?" she murmured. "Are they all right?" 

"They're fine. Go back to sleep." 

"Why are they in here, Jed?" 

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I've got everything under control." He slid Nicholas and Aislinn under the covers on his side of the bed and began to strip his clothes off. 

Abbey rolled over and still sleeping, Nicholas inched his way over to his mother's warm body and curled up in the fetal position against her belly. Abbey couldn't help but think that it was the same position he used to sleep in when he was safely in her womb. She absently stroked his head and smiled softly when she heard the muffled sound of his smacking lips as he sucked on his thumb. 

Jed threw on a pair of pajama bottoms and was about to slide into bed when he remembered his daughter's proclivity for grasping his chest hair. He quickly dug in his dresser for a T-shirt and climbed into bed. Aislinn immediately curled up to him and he ran a soothing hand over her back. 

"Jed, why did you bring them into bed with us?" 

Jed was startled by the sleepy voice of his wife. He had thought she had gone back to sleep. 

"You're scared, aren't you? You're afraid he's going to retaliate, because I didn't wear his blouse." 

"I'm not scared, Abbey," Jed protested. "I'm just taking precautions. I feel safer when they are with us." He knew it was foolish, given all the protection that his kids received, but that was just the way he felt. 

Abbey slid her arm over the sleeping forms of her son and daughter and found Jed's hand to give it a light squeeze. 

"Me, too," she replied, and before long, both were sound asleep with their arms linked protectively over their children and their fingers interlocked in a bond of silent defense against the man who would seek to harm them. 


	11. Love and Rage

The day after the State of the Union was hectic and chaotic. All morning Jed, Abbey and members of the senior staff had done their time on the morning shows and sat for interview after interview to promote the agenda the President had laid out the previous night. None of the television correspondents or the print journalists noticed the strain and tension in either the President or the First Lady. Nobody on staff, not even Leo, knew the inner turmoil of the First Couple as they both waited for the proverbial shoe to drop. Nobody but Ron knew about the ignored demands and the threat to the children. However, just because they didn't know what was going on didn't make them blind. They knew the First Couple more intimately than any reporter did. They knew their body language and the way they communicated and reacted to one another. It didn't take CJ long to notice that something was off with them today. There was tenseness and a certain skittishness in both of them as they sat in the limo after visiting a local hospital for a photo-op to promote the President's ideas for health care reform. There was none of the teasing, witty repartee that usually took place after an event and both had balked at a rope line. Her first reaction might have been that the couple had argued, but their body language seemed to rule that out. They sat thigh to thigh, not on opposite sides of the seat, and the President's hand rested on the First Lady's nylon clad knee. The gentle looks they gave each other were filled with nervousness and compassion, not the fiery or icy glares they gave each other when in the midst of an argument. 

Then, as the motorcade turned the corner on its way back to the White House, one of the cars backfired with a loud bang. The President blanched and, without a sound, turned his body to shield his wife from what he must have thought was a gunshot. 

"Jed," Abbey said, pushing against his chest. He had her pinned her slight form back to the seat with his body. "It was just a car backfiring." Her tone was calm, but CJ was surprised and perplexed to see that her eyes were glittering with tears as the President settled back against the seat. She saw beads of sweat pop up on the President's forehead and his skin had turned an ashy gray as his wife grasped his hand tightly. She gave quick frown of confusion to Leo who could only shrug back his own bewilderment. Neither knew exactly why the couple was behaving this way, but both assumed that it must have something to do with one Mr. Marcus Hughes. 

* * * * 

Once back at the White House, CJ had her chance to confront the First Lady about what had her and the President so on edge. The President had gone to a situation room briefing and CJ happened to catch Abbey leaning against a desk in the office area outside the Oval Office awaiting his return. 

"Ma'am?" she touched her shoulder softly. 

"JESUS!" Abbey jumped and whipped around ready to do battle. 

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to scare you." 

"It's OK." Abbey took a deep breath with a hand still over her chest as if to calm her racing heart. 

"Abbey, what's going on? It may be none of my business, but you and the President seem about ready to jump out of your skins today." 

"We're that obvious?" she asked ruefully. 

"Afraid so." 

Abbey led her into Jed's study for privacy and unburdened herself to the other woman. She explained about the threatening note and the conscious decision she and Jed had made to ignore the perverted demand. CJ looked at Abbey with stunned disbelief. 

"I can't believe the NERVE of that guy. I can't believe he actually thought you'd WEAR that blouse for him." 

"I actually thought about doing it," Abbey said softly. 

"How could you even think about wearing it?" CJ was taken aback at the very idea. "I mean it was like he wanted to brand you or something." 

"I thought about wearing it because he threatened to get to my babies. That scared the hell out of me. I'd do anything to keep them safe, CJ, but Jed wasn't going to allow that." 

"The President must have had a fit." 

"A fit is putting it mildly. He went absolutely ballistic. There was no way he was going to let me wear that blouse. I think he…Oh, never mind," Abbey shook her head as if to clear it. 

"It's OK, Abbey. I have a few minutes, if you want to talk." 

"It's just that…CJ, Jed's the only man I've ever been with. I was only 19 when I met him and he was it for me. I fell head over heels in love. Marcus Hughes took that away when he penetrated my body." 

"Oh, Abbey, no, he didn't. The President is still the only man you've GIVEN yourself to. Marcus Hughes took your body, but he didn't take YOU." 

"I've tried to tell myself that and Jed's told me that about a hundred times over the years. But you should have heard how adamant he was against me wearing the blouse. 'You're NOT wearing that blouse. I'm not going to let you sit there letting him think you are HIS!'" 

"You can't think the President is jealous." 

"No…not jealous. Just possessive. As if Hughes took something that belonged only to him." 

"The President can be a bit possessive when it comes to you," CJ smiled. "But it's a cute possessive not psycho possessive. He's never acted like he owns you. He's just not that kind of guy." 

"No, you're right. He's not. I guess I'm not explaining this very well. I don't understand it myself. I just know that if I had been mugged that day, this would all be different. Jed's reaction would be different and mine would be different. Rape is so much more personal. It takes what is intimate and loving and special and twists it into something that is violent and degrading and ugly. It's so damn UGLY, CJ." 

CJ took Abbey's hand and looked into her eyes. No matter how understanding a man was about this type of attack, he could never truly know the helplessness of being the so-called 'weaker sex'. Of having to worry about being seen as prey, because of what you wear or how you act or for simply smiling at the wrong person. CJ understood very well the fears that inhabited Abbey Bartlet, because what had happened to her was a fear every woman lived with at some time in their life. 

"But you survived, Abbey, and that's what matters. You SURVIVED." 

* * * * 

Abbey waited all day and all night for something – a phone call, a note – something that would show her just how badly she had pissed Marcus Hughes off. When nothing had happened by the time she went to bed, she was almost angry. He certainly was a sadistic monster. She knew for sure that he was doing this on purpose. He wanted their nerves to be frayed, so he was deliberately prolonging his response. He enjoyed keeping them on pins and needles – jumping at every sound and phone call. He probably got off on dangling them over this precipice. Now she would have to go through all of this again tomorrow. Tomorrow – when she was spending the day with Diane Sawyer for her special, "A Day with the Bartlet Twins", to commemorate their first birthday. Except for a brief photo layout before the party, no press was going to be allowed at the birthday over the weekend; Jed had promised, through CJ, to supply the corps with a couple of family shots of the significant moments like blowing out their candles. It was a balancing act that they were constantly struggling with – how to deal with the public's insatiable curiosity, while still maintaining their children's privacy. 

* * * * 

Marcus Hughes sat back in a recliner in front of the television. Lori was on duty at the White House, so he was alone to watch "A Day with the Bartlet Twins". He was absolutely furious with Abigail for snubbing her nose at him and not wearing the blouse he had sent her. While he had watched her applaud her husband, he could actually feel what it would be like to squeeze that slender neck of hers. She wouldn't be able to IGNORE him then. He would be the last thing she saw before she died. But, as much as the idea appealed to him, he knew that he had to wait. He had to make her suffer as she made him suffer. Part of her punishment would be in not knowing when or what was going to happen next. To spend day after day looking over her shoulder until he was finally prepared for that final moment when he would take what should be his. 

That was his plan anyway, a plan that began to dissolve with the start of the special. It opened with the strains of "What a Wonderful World", along with a montage of video and pictures of the twins from just hours after they were born until today. It started with the President and First Lady each holding an infant while they greeted the cheering throngs as they left the hospital, then quickly moved on to scenes from the babies' first year of life: the President asleep with two newborns on his chest, the big formal Christening, the First Lady peering down with a smile over the edge of their crib, the President lifting a giggling Aislinn high over his head, the First Lady nose to nose with Nicholas, the President and the First Lady smiling and watching both their son and daughter crawl on a sandy beach in Maine. The video ended with family scenes from Christmas in New Hampshire with the babies learning to open their gifts and crawling through the mounds of wrapping paper that littered the floor. 

When the music and montage stopped, the day started. The twins were seated in their high chairs while Abigail fed them breakfast. HE left for his office before breakfast was over, leaving the ladies to chat. 

"Now, you have a nanny," Diane stated. "Do you always feed the children breakfast yourself?" 

"I try to. It gives Jed a chance to see them before going off to the office, and it's the kind of normalcy that we want to give them. If Jed isn't able to be home for supper, I try to get them down to his office for a visit or he tries to pop in for some quality one on one time. That's one of the benefits in working over the shop." 

Such a sweet family moment, Marcus thought with a sneer, as the show moved into a commercial break. He was beginning to believe more and more that he was not going to be able to allow those kids to live. They were HIS children. HIS blood ran in their veins. They were a link Abigail would always have to HIM if he didn't do something about that. 

From breakfast, they moved on to the twins swimming lesson in the White House pool, and a bundled up stroll through the Rose Garden. But, it was the visit to the Oval Office that caused Marcus' blood pressure to soar sky high. As the kids were set down on the carpet of the President's office, it was obvious that his children were frequent visitors. Both kids crawled quickly behind their father's desk and pulled themselves up to tug on a drawer. Ms. Sawyer was interested in seeing what they were after. 

"Could you please ask my wife to turn the other way?" Jed asked. 

Diane looked at the First Lady with a half smile and Abigail reluctantly turned away. Only then did he reach into the drawer for the little baggy of cereal marshmallows he kept hidden there for these little visits. Both babies grinned and popped the hard little marshmallows into their mouths. 

"He's not giving them chocolate, is he?" Abigail asked, her back still to the desk. 

"Not chocolate," Diane grinned. 

"Abbey's a health food nut," Jed explained. "She doesn't like the kids to have sweets between meals." 

"And he likes to spoil them," Abbey smiled wryly as she turned back around. 

Nicholas began to pull himself up using the President's pant leg and he leaned down to lift the little boy into his arms. He held Nicholas to his chest and the two Bartlet males turned their blue eyes to Diane and Abbey. 

"It's incredible how much he looks like you, sir," Diane commented. 

"Oh, he's a little replica all right," Abbey grinned. "Right down to his stubborn temperament." 

Marcus rose to his feet and kicked his foot through the screen of the TV shattering the glass with his furor. Watching Abigail with HIM and HIS babies had created a reality to their family life. Those kids weren't just pictures in a magazine. They were real. Seeing HIM holding that little blond baby boy who shared his eyes and facial features was a stark reminder that his beautiful Abigail was a slut who had continued to open her legs for HIM long after she had been warned not to. Suddenly, it wasn't so easy to wait. Suddenly, he needed to hear the fear in her voice, for her to know that she was going to pay for her betrayal. 

* * * * 

"I'll get it." Abbey was seated on the couch with Jed's arm around her shoulders as they watched the special on TV. Michael O'Neill sat in a chair to their left. He and Beth had arrived a couple days early to visit before the twins' birthday party; and, at the moment, Beth was in her glory rocking her granddaughter to sleep in the nursery. 

Smiling and with her eyes still on the television screen, Abbey picked up the cell phone. "Hello?" 

"You BITCH! How dare you DEFY me? Do you know how badly you are going to PAY for all of this?" 

Jed watched Abbey's smile fade and her skin pale. He knew in an instant who it was, and without even setting down his brandy snifter, he was at her side in about three strides to yank the phone from her hand. 

"Listen to me, you SICK son of a bitch. You get off on scaring women? You're nothing but a pathetic fucking pervert. Don't you EVER call my wife again." Jed's face was red with indignation. 

"It won't be long now." Marcus ignored the irate man's temper and gave an eerie, evil laugh. "I am going to have her… AGAIN…And when I do, I'll spread her legs and drive myself into her and she'll scream for you to save her. Did she tell you that she did that? Yes, she screamed for you to come and save her, but you never showed, not until I was coming inside her, filling her with MY seed…" 

Jed's clutch tightened around the glass he held and an instant later, it shattered in his fist. 

"Jed!" Abbey shrieked running toward him. 

Jed ignored the pain from the shards of glass slicing into his palm and the burning alcohol that ran over the open cuts. 

"You try to get near her and I'll fucking KILL you…" Before he could continue on, Abbey ripped the phone from his hand and flung it down on the floor. The anger was still churning so violently within Jed it took him a few moments to realize Abbey held his bleeding hand, cupped in her own, and was examining the cuts for slivers of glass. 

Completely stunned by everything that had just happened, Michael made his way over to help his daughter. He had never seen anyone so enraged that they would break a glass in their own bare hand. He had never heard his son in law talk to anyone the way he'd just heard Jed talk on the phone. There was obviously something going on that he didn't know about and that something had to do with his daughter. 

"Am I going to need stitches?" Jed winced as Abbey picked a piece of glass from his palm. 

"No, I don't think so. There are a lot of cuts, but they're mostly superficial." She stopped what she was doing and gazed up at him from where she kneeled at his feet. Her lashes were wet and he saw a single tear streak down her cheek. "What were you thinking, Jed?" 

"I wasn't thinking," he said, running his hand over her cheek. 

"What did he say to you?" 

"Nothing." 

"It certainly wasn't nothing. If you're going to lie to me, Josiah, you have to do better than that. WHAT did he say to you that was so bad that you did this to yourself?" 

"Abbey, don't make me tell you." 

"No secrets, Jed. Remember?" 

Jed sighed, sometimes this total honesty thing really sucked. "He told me that while he was raping you, you were screaming for me to save you; but I wasn't there for you, not until he was already…filling you with HIS seed." The bitterness in Jed's voice caught on the last two words. 

Abbey stood and cupped Jed's jaw in her hands so she could look into his tormented eyes. "Jed, baby, he's just trying to get at you. Don't let him do it." 

"But it's the truth, Abbey. You were lying there screaming for me to help you and I was too late. I won't be too late this time, honey. He's got another thing coming if he thinks he is going to get near you again." 

"I trust you, Jed. I know you won't let him hurt me." She wanted to tuck her head under his chin and feel his strong arms around her, but his hand came first. "I have to get my bag so I can bandage your hand. Hold this napkin tightly to your palm. I'll be right back." 

Michael had been watching and listening to his daughter and son in law for the past few minutes with puzzlement and a growing sense of horror. A fear that what had happened to his daughter years ago was somehow coming back to haunt her. He looked down at Jed. "Just what the hell is going on here?" 

* * * * 

Michael was standing while Jed explained to him everything that had been going on. It was only when he was finished with his explanation that the older man sank down onto the couch next to him, burying his face in his hands. He had been plummeted back in time to that night Jed had called him choking back his tears to say that Abbey had been raped. His daughter. His little girl. The adorable little girl with her long coppery braids and her impish little smile who begged him to tuck her in at night. The sweet little girl who had learned how to dance by standing on his feet. The vulnerable little girl who had come to him with tears and skinned knees for a band-aid and a kiss to make it better. The precious little girl he had promised to protect had been brutally violated and there was nothing that he was ever going to be able to do as a father or a doctor to make that better. 

As he sat next to him on the couch, Jed couldn't help but notice that, suddenly, his father in law looked every one of his seventy-five years. 

"Why didn't you tell us?" 

"Abbey didn't want you to worry, especially with what Beth has been through this year. The girls don't know either." 

"You think he's going to come after her again." It wasn't a question. 

"Yeah, I think he's going to try." 

"I think I should stay down here for a little while with you. You know, just until they catch him." 

"You don't need to do that, Dad. Abbey has the Secret Service and she has me." 

Michael gave his son in law a long look and Jed was surprised to see the older man's eyes water. Michael was not an emotional man. Jed could count the times he'd seen him tear up or cry. Moved by his father in law's distress, he placed a comforting hand on his arm. 

"I know she's your wife, son," Michael swallowed. "And I know you'd protect her with your own life. But, she's also my baby girl. When I think of what he did to her..." he looked down at the floor shaking his head. 

"I know, Dad." Jed patted him on the back. He did know exactly how Michael was feeling. If this were his Elizabeth, he would be right there fighting Doug for protection rights. It was how he felt now when it came to the threat against Nicholas and Aislinn. Your children were always your children, no matter how old they were and no matter how many children of their own they had. 

Abbey came around the corner with her medical bag and the conversation stalled. She could tell from the stricken look on her father's face that he knew all, and she felt her willpower almost crumble. She felt an inexorable need to be held in her Daddy's arms. To be a little girl again, back to a time when he could make it all better. But she knew better now. She was a grown woman and there were monsters out there – real monsters that even her father couldn't make go away. 

She knelt by Jed and took his hand. While she ministered to him, she felt her father tenderly stroke her hair. Jed watched her swallow convulsively to keep control of her emotions. Had she turned around she would have seen the tear that trickled down her father's cheek. 


	12. Love and Rage

Abbey walked down the basement halls of the White House with a determined stride. She wore tight black biker shorts and an exercise bra that left her midriff bare. Her hair was pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail and the only jewelry she wore were her wedding and engagement rings. She was on her way to do battle, not take part in a warm and fuzzy aerobics class. 

Just two months ago, the agents following her might have sent each other raised eyebrows in admiration of the First Lady's trim and sexy little body. Might have kept one eye on her shapely rear and the provocative sway of her hips. Might have commented to themselves on just how well she filled out that exercise bra. But now, while they certainly couldn't help but notice the sexual allure of her outfit and the contours of her lithe figure, any lewd thoughts they might have had about her were pushed aside with an uncomfortable sense of dishonor. Suddenly, given what she was going through, even looking at the First Lady in an improper manner seemed offensive and wrong. Instead, they noted just how petite she was without her heels, how easy it would be to overpower and subdue her, and they felt that protective urge that had only a little to do with their job and a lot to do with being men. This lovely, determined woman was not just the First Lady to them. She was a wife they had watched teasing and flirting with her husband, a mother they had watched comforting her crying children and a friend they had watched laughing with her staff. They had observed her regally greeting the leaders of foreign countries as gracious as any Princess. They had been witnesses to her utter panic and her grief when the President had been shot. They were among the first to hear the squalling newborn cries that had signified her babies' arrivals that seemingly endless night when they had stood duty in the hospital hallway while she labored and gave birth to the twins. They had witnessed intimate moments that perhaps they should have turned away from, and joyous moments that broke their stoic faces into smiles. THIS was the woman they were protecting, and they could well understand why the President was blowing his stack constantly over the need to protect and defend her. 

Yet, thoughts of being protected were not going through Abbey's mind as she entered the gym. She wasn't going to depend on anyone else to save her. She was going to learn to save herself, and by having that ability, maybe the chokehold that fear seemed to have on her would loosen just a bit, so that she could find herself again – find that fearless, laughing Abbey that she had been just a few months before. She was just so damn tired of being afraid. 

* * * * 

"Come on, Abbey, you aren't even trying now." Ron stood in front of her in a white padded suit that made him look totally ridiculous, but was supposed to protect him from her blows. They had long since dispensed with Dr. or Mrs. Bartlet, or even "ma'am", and had moved on to a first name basis. "I just watched you hit and kick the shit out of the punching bag. That's what I want you to do with me. Don't worry, I'm totally protected." 

"It's no use, Ron." Abbey tipped her head back and took a swig from her water bottle. "I guess I'm just not cut out for beating the hell out of somebody." Abbey thought back to those lessons in decorum when she was a child. A lady mustn't hit, a lady doesn't fight, but what exactly did that mean, she wondered? She knew that she was a lady, in every sense of the word, but that didn't mean that she had to lay there and take it when she was being attacked. 

"You don't have to beat the hell out of him; you just need to know the vulnerable areas to attack. Your most important weapon is not going to be your fists or you feet; it is going to be your brain. But, right now, I want to see your brawn. I want you to use the heel of your palm to jab me in the throat, then knee me in the groin." 

"I've never had a man actually ask me to do that before," Abbey grinned. Ron shook his head with a half smile. He had really enjoyed the time he had been spending training the First Lady. She had a keen mind, a quick wit and a determined spirit. It was that spirit he was afraid he was going to have to break, if he was ever going to tap into the rage within her and make her fight back. 

"Aw, come on, you can do better than that. You hit like a girl," he taunted her. 

"I AM a girl, in case you haven't noticed." Abbey took a breath and jabbed at him with the palm of her hand. Ron gazed down at her chest. Her breasts were rising and falling enticingly with exertion and he noticed, not for the first time, the slight definition of her nipples. Oh yes, he thought, I have noticed indeed. He dragged his eyes back up to her face looking her straight in the eye. 

"Abbey, you have to hit me harder than that. Put everything into it." 

"I DID," Abbey insisted. She just couldn't seem to build up the anger needed to make her let go and really inflict some damage on Ron. 

"No, you didn't. I know there is more in you than that. Pretend I'm him." 

"What?" Abbey asked in shock. 

"Come on, hit me. Pretend I'm Marcus Hughes." 

"Ron, I can't," she pleaded. 

"Yes, you can. Come on. Remember what he did to you. Remember how you felt. Remember how he hurt you. Don't you want to hurt him back?" 

"Yes," Abbey choked. 

"He hit you, he humiliated you. He touched you wherever he wanted. He tore off your clothes, Abbey, and he RAPED you." 

It was as if a dam burst somewhere deep inside Abbey's soul, and for the first time she felt the rage flood her entire being. It wasn't fear this time. It was the pure undiluted rage that, so far, only her husband had experienced. 

"I HATE YOU!" she shrieked. She began to kick and hit him with a violence she had never known she possessed. "You FUCKING BASTARD, I want you to pay for what you did to me, for what you put me through! I want you to HURT like I did! I want to tear your flesh the way you tore mine! I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!!!!" 

With a final kick to the groin, Abbey collapsed to the floor in tears. She pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face on them while sobs shook her body. Ron pulled his headgear off, not knowing exactly how to handle this. Her kicks he could deal with, her tears he could not. He placed a hand awkwardly on her shaking shoulder. 

"You did good, Abbey, real good." But Abbey was beyond listening. She was completely spent from her emotional outburst. Ron was wondering if he should maybe call for the President when he noticed the man waking across the floor of the gym, tears clouding his blue eyes. Before he touched her, Jed sat down beside her. 

"Abbey," he touched her shoulder. His voice was able to draw a response from her, and she tilted her tear-ravaged face toward his. 

"Is this ever going to be over for me, Jed?" The words were laced with pain; her eyes filled with anguish. 

"Yes," he said with confidence. "I promise you that we are going to get through all of this, Abbey. You and me, together, babe, just like it's always been and always will be." He pulled his wife's weeping form into his arms, and Abbey buried her face into his chest. 

"I hate him. I hate him so much, Jed." Her fingers were clutching at his shirt. "I wish he was DEAD." 

"Me, too, babe." He stroked her hair. "Me, too." 

* * * * 

Balloons and "Happy Birthday" banners filled the living room of the residence. A few babies and toddlers sat around the table in high chairs and booster seats while the adults milled around behind them refilling bottles and sippie cups. At the head of the table, seated in their high chairs, Nicholas and Aislinn Bartlet reigned supreme A chorus of "Happy Birthday" had just finished, and they were being helped by their parents and sisters in blowing out the big number 1 candles on their separate cakes. Their mother had been adamant that, although their birthday was celebrated together, they were separate children, with separate identities. Aislinn's cake was trimmed with pink and decorated with Beatrix Potter bunnies, while Nicky's was trimmed in blue with a big picture of Tigger, his very favorite Pooh character. 

But, at the moment, what intrigued the babies were not the pictures on their cakes but the cake itself. Their parents had each placed a big piece on their trays. It didn't take long for their chubby little hands to dig into the frosting and cake and to try and smash as much into their little mouths as possible. While they happily played with the mess smearing frosting everywhere, Annie was snapping pictures with her grandmother's Nikon. 

Abbey stood smiling with Jed's arms around her from behind. There wasn't any pretense today and both wore jeans, T-shirts and loafers. Jed rested his chin on top of Abbey's head. His grin broadened as he watched Aislinn try to feed Nicholas a piece of her cake. Nicholas opened his mouth for it like a little bird, but his sister missed and rubbed it into his chin instead. Nicholas took this philosophically and simply reached over to grab a handful of her cake himself. His greedy little hand tried to push too much into his mouth and he began to sneeze as frosting went up his nose. 

Abbey broke free of Jed's arms and moved forward to clean her son's nose with a napkin. Nicky's face turned from side to side as he tried to avoid his mother's ministrations. When her hold proved too firm, he pushed at her face with a cake-covered hand smearing the gooey blue frosting from her nose to her chin. The room suddenly quieted to see what the First Lady's reaction would be. Abbey merely threw her head back and laughed as she began to lick the frosting off her lips. 

"Let me help you with that sweetheart." Jed moved forward with a napkin, but when Abbey tilted her chin up so he could wipe it off, he kissed her instead. While kissing her, he licked at the sweet frosting that covered her lips completely undaunted that he was doing so in front of staff, family and guests. He was relieved that for the first time in, he didn't know how long, Abbey didn't tense up at the touch of his lips. A few whistles and catcalls filled the room, and Abbey pushed away with an attractive soft blush. 

"This is a kid's birthday party, Jed," she said as she ran her thumb over the frosting that now adorned his upper lip. She received only a sexy wink from her husband in response. 

Jed couldn't help but think how much he was enjoying watching Abbey today. Her face was softer. She was smiling and relaxed; and, for a few hours, she had seemed to be able to lose her anxiety. Since her outburst a couple of days ago, she had seemed to lose some tension. Having finally released the volatile emotions within had been somewhat cathartic for her, and while she was still high strung, she was no longer filled with the almost crippling fear that had plagued her after that last note had been sent. 

* * * * 

A little later, with most of the guests gone, Jed sat on the floor putting together the Fisher-Price train set that had been his gift to Nicholas. Abbey was putting away all the new toys the kids had received with a little help from Leo. 

"Jed, are you watching them?" Abbey's tone was accusatory as she stood in the doorway with her arms filled with toys. He looked up and noticed both babies crawling over Max who lay resigned on his side. "Aislinn," Abbey continued, "take Max's tail out of your mouth. He is not a toy." 

Aislinn looked back at her mother and defiantly put the dog's tail back in her mouth. Max gave his mistress a baleful look. 

"Aislinn Faith Bartlet, you take that dog's tail out of your mouth, NOW," Abbey said sternly. 

Jed got to his feet and began to approach his daughter. Both children had skipped their afternoon naps today and were starting to show the cranky effects of that. Still, it was hard to be severe when his little girl looked so damn cute. She wore a little pink party dress, and while she shared his honey colored hair, it decidedly had Abbey's curl to it. She also had her mother's big hazel eyes that were, at the moment, guilelessly gazing up at him. 

"OK, Sunshine, you better listen to your mother." He leaned down to take the dog's tail away from her and Aislinn gave a whiny over-tired cry. "I think you need a nap, young lady." He lifted her from the floor, and Aislinn gave a high-pitched cry of protest and she kicked out, catching him on the knee with her little dressy patent leather shoes. 

"Ow!" he exclaimed. Abbey had to hold back a smile. Their daughter had definitely inherited both of her parents' Irish tempers. "You're starting to take after your mother." 

"Honey, if you're really mad at Daddy you need to kick him somewhere other than the knee," Abbey said sweetly. 

"Don't give her any ideas, Abigail," Jed grumbled. 

"Hey, that's some watch dog you got there," Leo grinned. They all turned to see Nicholas sprawled over Max tugging on his ear. The big dog didn't even move his head. He still lay prostrate on the floor. 

"Oh yeah? Watch this." Jed handed Aislinn to Leo, then stepped toward Abbey and grabbed her around the waist. Max rumbled with warning and sat up. Jed then pulled her tightly against him and Max got to his feet his growling becoming deeper. It wasn't until Abbey told him to settle that the Shepherd relaxed and, somewhat reluctantly, sat back. 

"Not only is he here to protect Abbey, I think the damn dog is in love with her," Jed grinned. He had wondered quite a few times over the past month what exactly the dog would do if he tried to make love to Abbey in his presence. Probably bite a chunk out of his ass, he thought ruefully. Unfortunately, he hadn't had the chance to find out. It seemed like eons since he had made love to or even just had sex with his wife. 

* * * * 

The thought of making love to Abbey only got stronger as Jed lay in bed later that night, supposedly reading. Instead, he was watching Abbey seated at her vanity table in only her lacy bra and a pair of his silk boxers. He rarely wore the boxers and, like many of his T-shirts, they had been confiscated into his wife's wardrobe. Watching her was an old game they had played many times before. He pretended not to be paying attention to her as she went about her nightly ablutions and she pretended she didn't know he was watching her. Yet, all the while, she made her moves more sensuous, making sure that he saw her rubbing the creamy lotion into her belly until he was so aching and hard he fairly pounced on her by the time she made her way to the bed. 

Tonight, she was not playing a game. Her moves were economical, not meant to tantalize and tease and yet, they did. He watched her run the brush through her fiery hair. He knew the routine. One hundred strokes every night. And when she was done, it flowed like molten lava over her creamy bare shoulders causing his fingers to itch with the need to thread through those silky tresses. 

He watched her tip her head back to smooth the sweet smelling lotion into her neck and collarbone. His lips ached to follow the delicate line of her jaw and slide down the fragile column of her neck. He felt his erection begin to pulse and he nearly groaned aloud when her hand slid under the lacy cup of her bra to smooth the lotion into her breast. He could feel the silkiness of the soft warm mound that he had caressed so many times, could feel the nipple harden as he flicked his thumb over it. Oh Christ, he thought closing his eyes, he was going to come just watching her if he didn't get himself under control. 

Re-opening his eyes a few moments later had not been a good idea. Abbey was standing now with one foot up on her chair as she smoothed the cream into her shapely calf, up higher over those sweet knees and higher still into the silky skin of her thighs. His fingers itched to follow hers higher still until he slid into the wet warmth between her thighs. 

He couldn't stand it anymore. He needed his wife back. Abbey had been so relaxed today, so approachable. Maybe it would be OK. Maybe she would let him love her and take away all the bad memories. 

"Coming to bed?" His voice was husky with need as he placed his hands on her shoulders to turn her around. 

"In a minute," she smiled, unaware of the need throbbing in Jed's body. 

"How about now?" He covered her lips with his, careful to keep their bodies apart at the moment. 

It felt so good to kiss Jed like this again. Maybe, just maybe, she could let herself go, let herself feel…. 

"I want you so much, baby," Jed groaned. His lust got the better of him and he pulled her up against him. Abbey felt his penis hard and insistent against her belly and she immediately tensed up. 

"Jed, please…wait," she tried to push back and give herself some breathing room. 

"I miss you…I miss this. I hate what he's done…" He slid himself against her, needing the friction, and totally unaware that Abbey was no longer participating and was merely frozen in his arms. 

"Jed…STOP." She shoved at him hard and it was like a bucket of ice water thrown at him. He saw the uncertainty in her eyes and felt instant shame. He should have been more aware of her feelings. 

"Abbey, I'm sorry…I…I miss making love to you. It's been so long." 

"Well, I'm so sorry that I've deprived you of your sexual needs." Her hurt immediately turned to anger. She turned and moved with quick strides to the bed where she laid back and spread her legs. Jed looked at her in shock. 

"Well, come and get it. You miss it do you? Well, feel free to fuck me." 

"Abbey," Jed protested. 

"This IS what you wanted isn't it? I mean I AM depriving you of your husbandly rights." 

"Abbey, stop." 

He watched as she moved across the bed on her knees and stopped in front of him grasping his hips in her hands. 

"What are you waiting for, Jed? You said you miss sex. So, how do you want it? Do you want my mouth on you or just straight intercourse?" 

"Abbey!" He was obviously appalled by her actions. 

"Go ahead and take it, Jed." She tugged at his pajama bottom even though she could see that he no longer had an erection. "That's what you men do, isn't it. Take, take, TAKE." 

Jed angrily broke free of her hands. 

"Don't you EVER compare what we do in our bed to what that BASTARD did to you. One has NOTHING to do with the other. I MAKE LOVE to you, I don't RAPE you." He turned away from her, running his hands furiously through his hair. His outburst brought Abbey back to her senses and filled her with shame. From the moment Marcus Hughes had re-entered their lives, Jed had been nothing but supportive and loving and solicitous of her, and this was how she repaid him? By pushing him away over and over. By likening him to a rapist. 

Jed felt her hands on his bare shoulders. "I'm sorry, Jed. I'm so sorry. It's just… When you said you missed sex and that you hated what he's done…" 

"I'm not going to lie to you," he interrupted. "I do miss sex. But what I meant was that I hate what he has done to you emotionally. I HATE it that you wake up crying every night and that sometimes you even cry in your sleep. I HATE it that you jump at every loud noise and cringe at every touch. I HATE it that you are taking five showers a day again. I HATE that you feel soiled and dirty. I HATE that you can't stand my touch…" He broke off as his voice began to choke with the words that finally revealed his deepest fear. 

"Jed, sweetie…Look at me." She placed her fingers under his chin and lifted his face. His eyes were so filled with hurt it nearly broke her heart. 

"It's not that I can't stand your touch. I DO want to make love with you. I'm just afraid that…What if I can't respond? Sex has always been great between us, Jed. I'm afraid to lose that. I couldn't bear that." 

"I'm sure it will be fine, and if it's not right away, it will be again. I just want to help you, Abbey." 

"You can't, not in the way you want to. All you can do is be here for me." 

"I want to do more." 

"You can't," she said sadly. "You're a man. You can never know what it was like to be completely at the mercy of someone bigger and stronger than you." 

"Maybe not, but this happened to me, too, Abbey." 

"How?" she asked, her voice laced with bitterness. "How did this happen to you? Did he slap you? Did he rip your clothes off and slobber all over your face and breasts? Did he rip you open and pound into your body over and over and over until you thought you were going to die if it didn't stop soon? Did you scream for him to stop and only receive a laugh and harder thrusts? Did you feel his filthy disgusting semen pour into your body and down your thighs? DID YOU!" 

Tears were streaming unchecked down Jed's face now. "No," he admitted. "But you aren't the only one who sees his face in your nightmares. I can't erase the memory of seeing him hurting you or of that pleading look on your face when you saw me. If you think that I'm not hurting over what he did to you, you're wrong. Don't you know that I'd do ANYTHING to go back in time and stop him? I'd do ANYTHING, Abbey. But, I can't. I CAN'T!" He sat on the edge of the bed and buried his grief stricken face in his hands. 

Feeling incredibly selfish and utterly wretched, Abbey moved forward and began to finagle herself on to his lap. Jed lifted his red-rimmed eyes surprised by the move, but he helped her settle on his legs and pulled her tightly against his chest. 

"I'm sorry, Jed. I'm so sorry. I let him win, didn't I? I let him come between us." 

"Ssh…It's OK, Abbey. I can't take away what happened. But I can help you live with it." 

"I know." She kissed the base of his throat. "I love you so much, Jed. I'm so sorry I pushed you away." 

"I'm sorry that I pushed you to be intimate too soon." 

"It's not too soon, Jed. I DO want you to make love to me. I want us to reconnect as husband and wife." 

"I want that, too, mo duinne." 

"You know I can't resist you when you speak Gaelic to me." She pressed her lips against his, gently, almost hesitantly, but this time it was Jed who pushed back. 

"Not tonight, allidh." He ran a finger lovingly over her soft cheek. "Next weekend is Valentine's Day. I was thinking that we could have a nice romantic dinner and maybe spend the weekend at Harmony Point." 

"Mr. President, are you planning on seducing me?" she asked coquettishly. 

"I think I just may." 


	13. Love and Rage

"God DAMN you to hell, Abigail!" Marcus burst out. Lori came running from the kitchen just as the magazine he had been reading was flung across the room. She picked it up to see what had set him off this time. It was a _People_ magazine cover proclaiming "THEY'RE ONE!" along with a picture of the Bartlet babies in their parents' arms. It was not a typical generically posed for shot. Instead, it showed the reality of what it was like to actually hold a baby. Little Aislinn Bartlet had her fingers in the smiling President's mouth while Nicholas held a handful of his mother's hair in his fist. The President and First Lady were smiling at each other, over their babies' heads, rather than looking into the camera which gave a much greater feeling of intimacy to the shot, as if the readers were actually witnessing a stolen family moment. 

"What are you smiling about?" Marcus fumed. 

"It's a cute shot." She watched his face tighten and his eyes glitter with animosity toward her. She was starting to regret her relationship with him more and more. The more closely she worked with the First Lady, the more she found it hard to believe that she had ever had an affair with Marcus. She and the President just seemed too wrapped up in each other for that. 

"It's FAKE. She doesn't love him." 

"I'm beginning to think that this has all been some kind of charade for you." 

"A charade?" 

"Yes. I think our whole relationship is some kind of charade. I think that you're still in love with the First Lady." 

"So what if I am?" he challenged. He was pissed at Abigail and spoiling for a fight. 

Lori looked at him with shock. She had done almost everything over the past few months because she had grown to love Marcus. She had felt sorry for what he had been through because of Abigail Bartlet, and she had risked her job and her freedom for him because she thought he loved her too. 

"But you said you loved me." Her voice was weak and pitiful. He couldn't stand weakness. His Abigail was strong and defiant. She had refused to beg him, refused to bend to his will. Although he knew he would rectify that obstinate display of courage this time, he relished the spirited struggle she was sure to give him. 

"I did, didn't I?" he grinned. "Well, I guess you shouldn't believe everything you're told." 

"You SON OF A BITCH!" She flew at him with flying fists pummeling at his chest while he simply laughed at her. 

"Look at you." He cupped her chin cruelly in his hand. "How could you think that I could love you when I have had Abigail? You aren't even in the same league with her." 

"Yeah, well she doesn't seem to want you too much anymore, does she?" she snorted derisively. 

"You listen to me, you little bitch." He grabbed her by the throat. "She will want me again once I've spoken with her in person." 

"Oh yeah, how do you expect to do that? " she choked. 

"Just the way I've done everything else – with your dutiful help. I want to see her Friday night." He had long since planned on Valentine's Day being the day he was reunited with the love of his life. 

"I can't." She tried to pull back out of his hold. "I can't get you into the White House. You KNOW that." 

"But they won't be in the White House over the weekend, will they?" He moved his face in closer to hers. 

"I won't do it. I don't know what you're up to, but this isn't a game anymore. You're not just out to scare the First Lady as payback for your jail sentence. You're obsessed with her." 

"You WILL let me in to see her this weekend." 

"No, the game is over Marcus. I'm going to turn you in." 

"Nice try, sweetheart." He squeezed her neck harder. "But if I go down, you go down. You're in this up to your eyeballs. You're a traitor. The only way to save your ass is to help me from getting caught." 

Lori stared up at him like a frightened rabbit. She was between a rock and a hard place and she knew it. Whatever decision she made would affect not only her, but also the entire First Family. 

* * * * 

"And then Muriel Vanderkellen has the NERVE to say to me," Abbey took a sip of her champagne and affected a superior snobbish look down her nose, "maybe the magazines would talk more about your agenda instead of your looks if you didn't flaunt things quite so much. You should try wearing pink. Mamie Eisenhower wore pink and she really was such a LADY. My GOD, Jed, MAMIE EISENHOWER!" She laughed and took another sip of her champagne. 

Jed sat back in his chair smiling and admiring the vision his wife made sitting across the restaurant table from him. She was absolutely radiant. Her loose, curling, deep auburn hair shone as bright as the fire that burned next to them. Her hazel eyes glowed softly in the candlelight that flickered over her lovely face. The diamond and ruby necklace he had given her to mark the day sparkled around her neck. The ruby drop fell enticingly into the "V" of her cleavage, which was revealed quite nicely by the low-cut scarlet red dress that she wore. But it was more than her beauty that had bewitched him; it was the fact that her lively, vibrant personality was back. She was regaling him with impersonations from her incredibly dull Senators' wives tea that afternoon. Her eyes were dancing, her hands were moving with affected gestures and he was quite simply enchanted. 

"You know," she said, gazing out the window at the marina and the dancing lights of the boats on the still water of the bay, "the view here is really lovely." 

"Yes, it is," he agreed, but his glittering sapphire eyes had never left her face. Abbey smiled at him and bit down softly on her full lower lip. Her husband may, at times, have been an absent-minded professor, but when he focused his undivided attention on her, he did so to the complete exclusion of anything else. It was incredibly intoxicating to feel that she was the center of this man's world. When she added his charming personality and boyish good looks to the equation, the effect was absolutely devastating. It had been from the first moment she had met him and he had become the center of her universe. She still couldn't believe that he had rented out the entire restaurant and hired a small orchestra and singer so they could have a private romantic dinner. 

Their gazes only broke when the waiter arrived with their meals. Without touching his lobster, Jed watched Abbey pick up her fork and spear a shrimp from the bed of shrimp scampi that lay over the linguini noodles. 

"You are going to eat that tonight, not just play with it, right?" It was the closest they had come to discussing the forbidden topic of what had been going on the past few months, yet Abbey only smiled. She might grumble about it at times, but she did love how Jed looked out for her. 

"Yes, sir," she stated overly sweetly and popped the shrimp into her mouth. A few moments later, she gazed at his plate. "How's the lobster?" 

"Good. Would you like a bite?" He grinned at her predictability. Abbey could never make it through a meal without picking off his plate. 

"Yes," she nodded. 

Jed dipped a piece of the lobster meat into his butter and brought his fork to Abbey's lips. Abbey took the succulent sweet meat into her mouth and her eyes closed with pleasure as the melted butter poured over her tongue. Jed inhaled sharply and watched her intently. His groin tightened at the erotic vision she made. She got that same look when he slid deeply inside her. 

"You're such a little sensualist." The words came out husky. 

"You know it," she gave him a saucy grin and ran her tongue over her lips. "I like silk clothes and satin sheets. I like creamy chocolate and delicate whipped cream. I like rough chest hair rubbing against my breasts and...." 

"Save those thoughts for later tonight, Sassy, or I may not let you finish your meal." 

Abbey gave a throaty laugh and motioned for another bite of lobster. This time she stole his fork, so he would have to use his fingers. He lifted the butter-covered piece of shellfish to her lips, but before he could pull his hand back, Abbey grabbed it. She lifted it to her mouth and slid his index finger between her lips to lick and suck at the butter residue left there. Jed felt an instant electric reaction right from his fingertip to his penis, which, already half aroused, jumped to life. 

"I thought I was supposed to be seducing you," he groaned, running his now wet finger over her lips. 

"Oh, you'll have your chance." 

This was the easy part, Abbey thought. The easy flirtatious sexuality they shared. It was what came later that made her nervous. It was not knowing how she would react when it was time to make good on all these promises she was making. She wasn't afraid of Jed hurting her. She was afraid of hurting him. She had never had to fake anything with him before, never faked an orgasm. If she didn't have one during intercourse, which rarely happened, Jed was very conscientious about making sure that she "finished". Now she was afraid that because of everything, she might freeze up, go frigid for some reason and not be able to respond. He had already admitted that what caused his deepest pain was that he felt she couldn't bear his touch. Would he see his inability to arouse her as proof of that? She began to wonder if it would just be easier all around to fake it, if it didn't happen, than it would be to deal with the emotional consequences. 

"Dance with me," Jed said, pulling her out of her musings. She smiled up at him and gave him her hand. The diamond in her engagement ring sparkled in the firelight, and he felt a stab of possessiveness. This incredible woman was his. She wore his ring proclaiming their bond to the world. She stood in the tight red dress that fit her slender hourglass figure like a second skin. The strappy red stiletto four inch heels made her legs seem a mile long and caused her to fit almost perfectly against him as they danced face to face, chest to breasts, hip to hip. 

"Lord John was right, Abbey," he murmured as his hands roamed over the bare skin of her backless dress. "You do have a body made for sin." 

"We're married, Tiger. Nothing this body does with you is a sin." 

Jed chuckled and his hand moved lightly over her cheek. "Ah, Abs, I do love you to distraction." 

"What do you love about me?" she asked, pulling back to look into his eyes. Those deep cerulean eyes that could never keep any secrets from her. She had never seen eyes as vividly blue as her husband's, except in their son. They were a completely pure blue without a hint of green or gray and framed by long tawny eyelashes. They were eyes she could lose herself in and had on many occasions. 

"You want a list?" he asked. 

"Sure." 

"Well, let's see," he teased. "I love that you feel free to use my razor on your legs right before I have a press briefing, so I am covered in nicks. I love that you filled the glove compartment with unpaid parking tickets, because you thought it was stupid to get a ticket when they should know that you were at the hospital for an emergency. I love that you think putting three dollars of gas in the car will get you to hell and back. I love that you steal food off my plate and clothes from my drawers. I love that it takes you an entire day to pack for a two-day trip. I…" 

"Jed." She pulled out of his arms. She was trying to glare at him, but Jed could see amusement quivering on her lips. 

"All right, All right. Let's see. I love the way your nose gets that cute little wrinkle when you laugh. I love the little dimple in your cheek when you smile. I love the way you can turn from ice to fire in the blink of an eye. I love that you look as natural with a baby on your hip as you do in hospital scrubs. I love that you leave lipstick on the collars of my shirts. I love that you are a completely remarkable mother to our children. I love that you sing while you cook. I love that you can make me crazy just wondering if you're wearing underwear or not. I love that our lovemaking is so intense for you sometimes that you cry. I love that you are the most beautiful, sexy, unpredictable, fascinating woman that I have ever met. I love that I remember what the air smelled like the first time that I kissed you. I love that I met you when I was twenty-one and didn't waste years searching for my soulmate. I love that we grew up together. I love that your face is the last one I see at night when I go to sleep, and the first one that I see in the morning when I wake up." 

Tears shimmered in Abbey's eyes at his romantic proclamations. Jed was not one to wax poetic about his love for her. His lust, yes. But the love part came harder, thanks in part to his wonderful upbringing, and that made his words extra special. 

"Now, what about me?" he asked. "What do you love about me?" 

"Let's see," she sniffed, still trying to regain control of her emotions. "I love that it takes you twenty minutes to answer a yes or no question. I love that you paid all my unpaid parking tickets. I…" 

"Abbey." He pinched her rear. 

"OK, OK. I love this piece of hair over your forehead that never wants to stay slicked back. I love anything and everything about your chest. I love that you sing in the shower. I love that you can make me laugh, just when I am about to cry. I love that you will read and absorb absolutely anything that is put in front of you. I love that you'll drop whatever you're doing to rub my back when I have cramps. I love that you cried when each of our children were born. I love that when you hold me in your eyes, you make me feel like the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world. I love that you dress up as Santa for a group of orphans. I love that you would literally give the shirt off your back to someone in need. I love that you know how to braid a little girl's hair. I love the way that you cry out my name when we make love. I love that you are the most caring, intelligent, complex, sexy, man that I have ever met. And I also love that your face is the last one I see before I go to sleep, and the first one that I see when I wake up in the morning." 

Before she even finished the last sentence, Jed's lips had descended on hers. His kiss was gentle and sweet and loving. A kiss of complete giving, without asking for anything in return. 

"Ready to go home?" he asked into her hair. 

"Absolutely." 


	14. Love and Rage

"You go on up, babe," Jed said as they entered the house. "I need to get something first." 

"OK, don't be long." She gave him a look from under her lashes that assured he would take the least possible amount of time. 

With Abbey gone, Jed dug into the refrigerator for the bottle of champagne he'd asked to have chilling. He grabbed two crystal flutes and made his way to the stairs filled with anticipation and, strangely enough, nerves. He had almost forgotten what it was like to have performance anxiety. Tonight with Abbey was going to be incredibly important. It would affect how she felt about herself and how she felt about sex. More than anything, he wanted tonight to be good for her – very good. 

Abbey had barely kicked off her shoes and turned the stereo on to a station playing Valentine's Day love songs by the time Jed entered the bedroom. She had been touched by the seduction her husband had planned. Long stemmed roses filled the vases in the room; a fire burned in the grate and the bed was turned down revealing her favorite satin sheets. 

"Champagne?" he asked. Abbey nodded and he handed her the delicate flute. After his glass was filled, he lifted it toward her staring intently into her eyes, "To us." 

"To us," she agreed, softly touching her glass to his. After sipping from his glass, Jed leaned down wanting to taste the sweet wine on Abbey's lips. A deep growl came from behind the bed. 

"I'm not fighting him for you tonight, Abbey. Put him out." 

"Jed, he needs to get used to seeing us like this." 

"Abigail, sweetheart, that dog is going to try to kill me when I climb on top of you." 

Abbey laughed at the image that came to mind and she reached for the dog's collar. "Come on, Max." She began to pull the reluctant dog out of the bedroom. Max looked back at Jed with what he swore was a dirty look. 

"Hey, don't look at me like that. She's my woman, not yours." 

Abbey quickly shut Max in the nursery with the twins and returned to her husband. 

"So, I'm your WOMAN, am I?" She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned back to smile impudently up at him. 

"Damn straight. And don't you forget it." He grinned down at her and pulled her in closer to dance with him. Abbey felt so safe and so content swaying gently in his strong arms. He felt her lips move against his bare neck as she began to sing along with the radio. __

"If there were no words, no way to speak I would still hear you. If there were no tears, no way to feel inside I'd still feel for you. And even if the sun refused to shine, Even if romance ran out of rhyme, You would still have my heart until the end of time. You're all I need my love My valentine…" 

Her voice trailed off as Jed's lips began to trace along her jaw until he reached that sensitive spot at the base of her ear that made her legs melt with desire. Her neck fell back and her eyes closed as she felt his tongue run over the diamond stud in her ear, swirling over and around it. She felt his hands at the back of her dress working the zipper, and she began to pull his shirttails out of his pants. When his hands made their way up the bare the skin of her back into her hair to cup her head for a kiss, she pushed back gently. Jed's eyes were hooded with desire and uncertainty. 

Abbey stepped back from him and, keeping her eyes boldly locked with his, she began to lower the straps of her dress down her arms so achingly slow that Jed found himself holding his breath. Before long, the dress slid down over her hips and puddled on the floor at her feet. Abbey stood brazenly before him in black lace underwear trimmed in red. Her breasts swelled barely restrained over the top of her strapless bra, and his fingers itched to work at the clips on her garters. 

Jed felt his mouth go dry and his breathing had become a little heavier. Abbey moved forward, and together they worked at the buttons on his shirt. When he had shrugged out of it, she sensuously rubbed her cheek against the crinkly hair on his chest. Her fingers followed the thin line of hair that ran from his navel into his pants. She unbuckled his belt – needing to follow that line further still until it flared at his groin. Her fingers were slightly hampered at his zipper due to the erection straining there. 

Once he was free of his pants, Jed began to maneuver her back toward the bed, his lips never leaving hers. Abbey was so involved in the sensation of his tongue sweeping in her mouth and warring with her own, that she didn't even realize they had moved, until the bed hit her in the back of the knees. She instinctively sat and noticed, through a haze of desire, the tube of lubricant on the bedside table. 

"Did you think you were going to need help tonight?" she asked huskily. 

Jed looked to where her gaze lay and he smiled somewhat sheepishly, "Just being prepared. I don't want to hurt you, Abbey." 

"My sweet little Boy Scout," she smiled. "I don't think you're going to have anything to worry about in that department, babe." 

Jed laid her back on the bed. His hands cupped her face, his fingertips softly tracing over her cheekbones, her brow, and finally the lush curve of her lips. 

"You are so beautiful," he whispered softly. His lips replaced his fingers to kiss her deeply while his hands trailed down lower to roam over soft curves of her body. His own body ached with desire; but he held back any force and, with extreme self-control, he kept his touches feather light. 

He could be so gentle, Abbey thought, as she felt his fingers whisper over the satiny skin of her inner thighs to his ultimate destination, which was to expertly work at the clips of her garters. Usually their lovemaking was so full of urgent, passionate need that it made this tender onslaught to her senses all the more sweet. 

His fingers moved up her body to breeze lightly over her chest and dip into the "V" between her breasts. Before long, he had front clasp of her lacy bra open and released those exquisite breasts into his warm hands. He felt her nipples harden under the movements of his thumbs, and she arched against him with a sigh. 

"Don't think about anything but what you feel, gorgeous…Just feel." His lips circled around her left nipple and he sucked it deeply into his mouth, tugging at it like a suckling child. Abbey arched harder against him with a soft purr of pleasure. 

"That feels good, doesn't it?" he asked as he released the hardened tip only to torture it again with a flick of his tongue over and over sending little darts of desire pulsing between Abbey's thighs. 

"Mmmm…." 

"There were a few things I forgot in the restaurant." 

"Oh…yeah?" Abbey closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip as Jed's teeth ran gently over her right nipple. 

"Yeah. I forgot to tell you that I love how good you taste right here." He gave a last kiss to her nipple. "And I love how you taste here…" His lips traced patterns over her belly and his tongue slid into her naval. "And I love how you taste here." His lips began to move over the lace edge of her panties kissing each hipbone. One hand moved to cup the lace covered mound between her thighs and Abbey's breath grew ragged, the pulsing between her legs almost unbearable. She felt his fingers slide under the lace and pull the material down just low enough so that he could press a kiss into the springy curls there. "And I love how you taste here…" His tongue darted out for a quick sample. Abbey gasped and lifted her hips, so he could pull the tiny scrap of material down over her hips. She knew exactly what he was doing. He had done this before. He was talking to her the whole time, so she would know that every touch was that of her gentle lover, not her vicious attacker. 

"Jed, please…" she moaned. "I need you." She reached a hand out and curled it over the silky hardness of him. She felt him pulsing and straining, felt the wetness of emission on his tip and knew what an effort he was making for this to be all about her pleasure. 

"Oh Jesus, baby…don't do that…Not yet." More than anything, he wanted to allow her to continue to stroke him with her sensual expertise. But, he wasn't finished with her, yet. 

"Oh… GOD…, Jed." She gave a long drawn out sigh that ended with a gasp as Jed's fingers delved into the warmth between her thighs. He gave a breath of relief and thanks at finding her wet and needy. She was right; he wouldn't need that little back up tube. He easily found what he was looking for and began to stroke it in a circular motion, just the way she liked it. Abbey pushed her knees further apart opening up for him. Her hips began to move in the same rhythm as his fingers. She couldn't think anymore. Couldn't think about anything but the pleasure that he was giving her. She was so lost in her desire that when his mouth and his tongue replaced his fingers she cried out loudly and almost came. 

"No, Jed," She tugged at his hair pulling at him until he looked up at her over her belly. 

"Let me, baby…you're almost there." 

"I want you inside me. You have to be inside me." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes, yes…Oh God, yes. I NEED you, Jed." 

Jed moved his way up her body into the cradle of her thighs. Home, sweet home. He felt Abbey's warm hand around his penis and he gave a deep groan. 

"Oh Christ, Abbey…I ACHE for you…" 

"Then take me, Jed." She guided him to her entrance. He probed gently and she felt the tip of him begin to penetrate her. Her bones turned to liquid, and she lifted her hips up to try and take more of him inside her. After a couple gentle thrusts, Jed finally slid deeply inside her, as deeply as he could go. Abbey felt him filling and stretching her and she wrapped her legs around his waist to take him completely in. She would never be able to describe what it felt like to have Jed locked so deeply inside her. They simply melded into one body, one heart, and one need for completion. 

Jed bit his lip fighting his body's natural urge to begin thrusting wildly within her. He tried to think of anything. Anything but how good it felt to be inside his wife's tight warm body. 

Abbey felt his hands grasp her hips as he withdrew nearly completely from her body. She whimpered at the sense of emptiness and loss that move caused, but was moaning with pleasure again when he slid back deeply inside. 

"Jed…Oh God…please…NOW." 

Jed knew exactly what that plea meant. It was the moment that his body had been waiting for. Finally unleashed from his self-imposed restraint, Jed began to thrust inside her. Deep long thrusts that caused her breath to move from moans, to whimpers, to gasps, and finally, to abandoned cries as she moved toward completion. He felt everything about her tighten, felt her fingers digging into his hips. Her entire body arched toward him, and then she was crying out from her shattering release. 

He paused for a moment just feeling the shocks in her body pulsing around him. He pushed the hair gently back from her face and rained gentle kisses over her brow. 

"I love you," he said softly. 

"Jed," her voice was still breathless. "Let yourself go." She reached her hands down to grasp his rear and pull him fully into her again. "It's OK, just let yourself go, baby…come inside me." 

Jed groaned deeply. Her words allowed him the freedom to be selfish for the first time that night. He began to thrust within her, doing what he needed for his own pleasure. It only took a few quick strokes before he joined her in climax with a deep cry of her name. 

* * * * 

Completely spent, with flushed skin, swollen lips, and tousled hair, Jed and Abbey lay entwined on top of the sheets basking in the afterglow of great sex. Jed was relieved to find that his wife hadn't lost the easy comfort she had always had in her sexuality. Rather than sliding under the covers, Abbey stretched out languidly nude against him with the firelight dancing over her creamy skin. She ran her toes up and down the hair on his calf while she twirled the hair on his chest around her finger. Meanwhile, his fingers caressed her rib cage and the underside of her breasts, moving every now and then to run a finger over her now sorely, sensitive nipples. While a few minutes before the touches would have been erotic and worked to enflame, now they were simply loving and soothing. 

Sometime during the evening, it had begun to rain and now they lay safely cocooned in each other's arms listening to it patter on the roof and against the windows. For the first time in ages, Abbey felt completely relaxed, content, and protected. 

"How do you feel?" Jed asked as he brushed his lips into her hair. 

"Safe," she sighed, nuzzling like a kitten into the silky hair under his arm. "I feel safer laying here alone in your arms in the rain than I do at a function with an army of Service agents. Is that crazy or what?" 

"Not crazy at all. You are safe with me, Abbey. You always will be." 

* * * * 

Jed awoke at the crack of dawn the next morning. He noted right away that the rain had stopped and the sun was poking its head through the clouds. He had fallen asleep spooned around Abbey's back from behind, his arms wrapped tightly around her and that was the same position that he woke up in. Her hair tickled his nose. Her skin was warm against him, and her sweet curving rear was pressed up against the part of his anatomy that had woken him up. He got up on one elbow and watched his lovely wife sleeping peacefully. She had not cried out in her sleep, nor awakened in tears the entire night. The sheets were tangled around her waist leaving her torso bare against him. Her cheeks were still flushed from the night before, her lips lightly swollen. She had a small hickey near her left nipple and her hair was sexily mussed. She looked like she had been tumbled and tumbled good. 

He reached over her head for one of the roses in the vase beside the bed and began to drop the fragrant petals on her cheek. Abbey gave a soft sigh and wiggled her hips back to press her rear tighter against the penis that was by now begging Jed to wake her up for a little morning sex. He slid a hand over her hip and around front to begin to stroke her. He gave a soft groan at finding her still damp from the night before. 

Abbey sighed in her sleep. She was having an incredibly erotic dream. Fingers, magically talented fingers, were lazily stroking her until she couldn't help but squirm against them. She needed…needed… 

She woke up slightly disoriented, still feeling those tantalizing stroking fingers. She moved her hand down her belly and lower still to where she found Jed's hand hard at work. 

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he rumbled against the back of her neck. 

"Mmmm…" was the only response she could make as the waves were already starting deep inside her belly. She pushed her rear back against him in a silent offering. 

"Abbey?" he asked. 

"It's OK, Jed. It's you. Only you." She pulled her knee up to give him better access and Jed slid inside her from behind, never stopping for a beat the circular motions of his fingers. 

Abbey's last coherent thought was how nice it would be to be awakened this way every morning. 

* * * * 

Abbey awoke a couple hours after their early dawn lovemaking. This time she was alone in bed, but not alone. She smiled as she heard Jed singing away in the shower. She snuggled deeper into the satin sheets reveling this feeling of satisfaction. The sensitive skin of her breasts and inner thighs were slightly red with whisker burn, her mouth and nipples were sore. Every inch of her smelled of Jed, his cologne, his sweat, the musky sent of his semen, and she felt absolutely, totally MAGNIFICENT. 

"You're awake," Jed said as he came out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. "Shower's all yours, if you want it." 

"Not yet," she yawned. She wanted to enjoy the state she was in after last night's carnality just a little longer. "Do you really have to go back to the White House this morning?" The disappointment was clear in her voice. 

"Just for a couple of hours. I'll do my radio address, then I have a quick briefing and I'll be back here before lunch. Looks it's going to be a nice day. Maybe we can pack the kids up in the back packs and take them for a long walk by the bay." 

"That sounds good." 

"Are you trying to seduce me into staying?" 

"What?" she looked puzzled until she followed his eyes down to the sheets that had slipped away baring her breast. 

"Wasn't making me get up at the crack of dawn to meet your needs enough, Mr. President?" she teased. 

"You know I can never get enough of you, hot stuff." 

* * * * 

Jed stood at the stove frying eggs for breakfast. He was barefoot and wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. His hair was still damp from his shower. Abbey sat at the kitchen table naked under her silk robe. The twins sat in their high chairs in front her. She was spooning oatmeal into their little bird-like mouths while they tossed the dry Cheerios that littered their trays on the floor. Max lay just under the table lapping up the fallen cereal. He had learned early on where all the goodies came from. It could have been the Saturday morning scene in any typical American family, however, they weren't a typical American family, and the man of this house had a date at the White House. 

"Abbey, I didn't realize how late it is. I don't have time to eat." Jed popped a piece of bacon in his mouth and turned off the stove. 

"Jed, you need to eat your breakfast." She barely looked up from the tugging fight that she was having with Nicholas for the spoon she was feeding him with. 

"I don't have time," he looked at his watch. "I've got to go." 

"You're not leaving without breakfast. Get your shoes on and I'll fix you something." 

Jed did as told and Abbey popped two English Muffins in the toaster. He watched her make a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich on the toasted bread and slide it into a brown paper bag. He smiled as he watched her place a big piece of cantaloupe into a sandwich baggy. He knew he couldn't get away without the healthy stuff. 

"I feel like I'm off to grammar school again," he said, accepting the brown paper bag from her. Abbey watched him snag a bottle of baby food off the counter. 

"What are you doing?" She faced him with hands on hips. 

"Tutti Frutti," he said, lifting it up to show her the jar. "I need something for my sweet tooth." He dropped it in the paper sack. 

Abbey held back her laughter. She would LOVE to see the looks on his agents' faces when The President of the United States opened a jar of baby food for his breakfast. 

He kissed each of the kids on the top of their heads and Abbey followed him out onto the porch. The car was already running in the driveway, the motorcade ready to pull away. Jed turned and pulled Abbey into his arms. He ran his hands over the silky robe that covered her hips. 

"You promise you'll be back early?" she asked. 

"Yes, Doc, I'll be back for lunch. I promise." He drew his finger over her bottom lip, then cupped her face in his hands. 

"I'm holding you to that, Josiah." She tilted her chin to accept the gentle kiss he pressed on her lips, then stepped back as he turned to leave. When he reached the top of the stairs, he turned back to her. 

"Lock the door when you go inside, Abbey." 

"I will," she promised. The words brought the reality of their situation back to Abbey. Suddenly, the real world had invaded the fantasy world of safety and security that had been hers for one whole night. She smiled affectionately as she watched Jed descend the stairs toward the black sedan with his brief case in one hand and his little brown bag in the other. 

* * * * 

With the breakfast mess cleaned, and the children fed, bathed and playing in the nursery with Izzy, Abbey let Max out, then made her way back up to the bedroom. Even the sight of the mess that waited for her could not bring down her utter sense of well being. It was amazing what a better outlook one night of great sex could give you. She slid her bathrobe off her shoulders and put it in the hamper. Her tug of war with Nicholas had caused her to end up with part of the baby's breakfast on her clothes. Naked, she reached into her dresser and grabbed the first thing she could find which turned out to be a very short white lace full slip. She grabbed a pair of bikini panties to wear under it and moved to the bathroom to start her bath water. After dropping a cupful of bubbles in the hot water, she made her way back to the bedroom to get started on cleaning the remains of their sexual escapades the previous night. 

He stood in the doorway surveying the mess in the room. Clothes and underwear lay scattered all over, an empty bottle of champagne lay sideways on the bedside table with two empty crystal flutes beside it. The bedcovers lay half on the floor, half on the bed. The room fairly REEKED of sex. And, there she was. The object of his desire was bending over to strip the bed of the soiled sheets. The woman he loved, the woman who BELONGED to him had quite obviously spent the previous night FUCKING another man. The blood raced through his veins to pound at his temples and he could feel his limbs shaking. 

"Hello, Abigail." 

The voice was cold, emotionless. It was the voice that made her cry in her nightmares. She froze for a moment, then turned slowly around. The blood drained from her face and a wave of nausea nearly brought her to her knees. Her fantasy of safety and security was over and had been replaced by reality – and the reality was that, in all probability, her real nightmare was just beginning. 


	15. Love and Rage

She'd been asked to meet her boss, Ron Butterfield, in his office. Somehow, deep inside, Lori knew the gig was up. Instead of being afraid of what was going to happen, there was almost a sense of relief. She knew that she was going to pay a terrible price for her part in Marcus' diabolical little plan. But, truth be told, she was more terrified of him, now, than of going to prison. She had little doubt that as soon as her usefulness was over, he was planning to kill her. She didn't have any illusions left about his feelings for her. Every ounce of his desperate desire was for Abigail Bartlet. How in the hell had she been so blind to that? The rough sex that she had attributed to passion, she could now see was more of a punishment. She now knew the reason he always shut off the lights and refused to allow her speak the soft words of a lover. It was because he didn't want HER to be his lover. He didn't want HER to be the one beneath him. In his twisted mind, she had never truly been the one beneath him. Every thrust and every moan had been meant for Abigail. 

Her thoughts drifted to what might be going on at Harmony Point right now. She wondered bitterly if Marcus would be able to persuade the First Lady back into his bed. Still, even while she wondered, deep inside she had a niggling of doubt. She found it very hard to believe that Abigail Bartlet and Marcus Hughes had ever been lovers. 

She began to get impatient as she waited for Ron and rose to her feet to look out his office window. As she passed his desk, she noticed a file labeled – Dr. Abigail Bartlet. She picked it up and opened it, realizing immediately that it was the police rape report from her encounter with Marcus. She read with growing horror of the damage that had been done to Abbey that night: extreme vaginal bruising and tearing, internal and external sutures required to stitch up the lacerations. 

Lori's legs began to shake and the bile began to rise in her throat. But, the words weren't the worst of it. There were pictures – pictures of purple and yellow bruises, bite marks, a split lip, and worse yet still, Abbey's eyes. Eyes that had the life extinguished out of them as if what Marcus had done had killed a part of her and she could no longer feel. It was then that she knew what she should have suspected all along. Marcus Hughes had not been Abigail Bartlet's lover. He had been her rapist. 

* * * * 

"You do know that you're a hypocrite, don't you?" Dr. Millicent Griffith, his wife's best friend, stood before Jed with her arms crossed. She was in the Oval Office this sunny Saturday morning to advise him on his radio address urging all Americans to quit smoking. 

Jed took a sip of his coffee and eyed her over the rim of his glasses. "And why would I be a hypocrite? I quit smoking years ago." 

"ABBEY quit smoking years ago. YOU just pretend to have quit." 

"I'm not a smoker, Millie." 

"Jed Bartlet, I bet if I search those desk drawers, I'll find cigarettes in there somewhere." 

"A cigarette a day does not make me a smoker. You're a doctor, Mills; you know one cigarette a day does not create a significant health risk." He sat down and dug into his paper sack for the jar he had tossed in earlier that morning. 

"Yeah, if you kept it to one." 

They both turned as the door opened and Leo entered. 

"Hey, Leo, is the President a smoker?" Millie asked with a mischievous grin. 

"Yeah, but if Abbey sent you to find and destroy his stash, you're out of luck. I could tell you where it is, but then I'd have to kill you." 

Jed shook his head and rolled his eyes at the two of them, then dug his spoon into the jar. 

"Can I ask why on earth you are eating from a jar of baby food?" Leo asked. "Abbey got you on some kind of weird diet or something?" 

Jed licked his spoon with obvious relish and surveyed Leo. "No, Abbey does not have me on some kind of weird diet. It's tutti fruity. Want to try a bite?" He stuck his spoon back into the jar and held it out for Leo to sample. 

"No, thanks," Leo grimaced with disgust. 

"You don't know what you're missing." 

"I'll deal with the ignorance." 

"Are you telling me that you have never tried baby food before?" Jed found that hard to believe. Abbey had always shoveled baby food down his throat to show the kids that it was so good, even Daddy liked it. 

"I can honestly say that I haven't as an adult. My taste leans toward French cuisine rather than Gerber." 

"I believe Leo just called me an infant, Millicent. You're one of my Generals; can't you court-martial him or something?" 

"Afraid not, Mr. President," Millie grinned. 

The door opened and Charlie poked his head in. "Sir, Ron Butterfield?" 

"Send him in." 

Ron came walking in and paused with a funny look as he watched the President eat. "Sir, is that baby food?" 

"Yeah, Abbey's got me on some weird diet. What's up?" 

Millie and Leo grinned at each other. 

"I think we may have found out who is helping Marcus Hughes to get at your wife." 

Any and all humor left Jed's face as he digested what Ron had said. 

"Who?" his tone had gone deadly, as had his eyes. 

"I think we have found a link between…" 

At that moment, a VERY distraught Secret Service woman barreled into the room. 

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, sir," she cried, all out of breath. 

"What is going on here?" Jed asked puzzled. 

"I didn't know. I really didn't know. Marcus…he said your wife was his lover…He wasn't her lover, he RAPED her." 

"We all know that," Jed said icily. "What's that got to do…" 

"I let him in," she sobbed. "I'm the one who's been helping him and I let him in." 

"What are you talking about?" Jed grabbed the woman by the forearms squeezing harshly. "Where did you let him in?" 

"This morning, I let him on to the property at Harmony Point." The room went silent and Jed's eyes went wild with horror. 

"You STUPID BITCH!" He shook her. "How could you DO that? Do you have any idea what you've DONE?!" 

Despite the fact that he wanted to wring her neck himself, Leo pulled Jed away before he did any bodily harm to the woman. 

Ron was frantically trying to communicate with his agents at Harmony Point. Fear speared his heart at the complete radio silence. 

"What's going on there, Ron?" Jed asked frantically. 

"I don't know, sir. I'm not getting any response." 

"Oh Christ," he moaned, "Oh God, I left her and the kids there all alone." 

Ron wasn't paying much attention to the President at the moment. Instead, he was busy calling agents together to head out to Harmony Point and rescue the First Lady. 

"What are we waiting for? LET'S GO!" Jed exploded. 

"Mr. President, you're not going anywhere," Ron said. 

"Like HELL I'm not. That SON OF BITCH is after MY wife and MY children." 

"Sir, I can't allow you into a situation where there may be danger…" 

"I don't give a FUCK what you are allowed to do. My FAMILY is in danger and I'm GOING!" 

"There is no argument about this, Mr. President," Ron said sternly. Jed could see Ron was not going to budge and some of his anger dissipated into desperation. 

"Ron. If he's… If he's done something to her," he couldn't bring himself to say the word, "I need to be there for her. Please…I'm begging you as a husband. Let me be there for my wife." 

What outrage hadn't done, pleading eyes did do. Ron paused, taking a deep breath. He remembered the President comforting his wife in the gym after she broke down. There was truth to what he said. The First Lady would need him if, God forbid, anything had happened. He knew it was against everything he had been trained to do, but he was responding as a man now, not as an agent. 

"OK, let's go." 

As they left the office and began down the hall, Josh appeared. He was totally unaware of the drama that was unfolding. 

"Sir? I need –" 

"Leave me the HELL alone," Jed cursed. Josh and Sam's eyes widened as they watched the President striding off down the hall with his agents like a man possessed. There had been a determined, fear driven desperation in his eyes that they had never seen before. 

Oh God, Jed thought, as he belted himself into his seat on Marine One. Please don't let anything happen to her. Please God, don't let him hurt her. 

* * * * 

"You don't look happy to see me, my love." 

"What are you doing here?" Abbey's breathless voice held a quivering edge of panic that made Marcus smile. 

"Didn't you read my notes?" He took a menacing step closer. "I told you I was coming for you." 

"You're not going to get away with this." Abbey took a step back as he got closer. "My agents –" 

"I wouldn't bother wasting your time screaming for them. You see, Abigail. They're dead." 

Terror lanced through Abbey like a sword and her heart began to race erratically. This was bad. This was so bad. He'd killed her agents. KILLED. What about her babies? Had he hurt her babies? Adrenaline surged through her body along with the overwhelming urge to flee. 

Marcus loved the sheer terror in her eyes along with that attractive sheen of tears. He squeezed her jaw cruelly in one hand to gaze down into her face. Abbey tried to flinch from his touch, tried to move her face from his grasp, but he only tightened his hold. 

"You won't get away with this, Marcus. You can't win." She was defiant through her tears. 

He laughed derisively, his face close to hers. "I already did win, Miss High and Mighty. I won when I fucked the hell out of you and gave you just what you wanted." 

"I didn't want it." While her voice trembled, her disgust was evident. "You KNOW that I didn't want it." 

"I made you mine that night, Abigail. You're still mine. ALL MINE." 

"No. No…I'll never be yours. No matter what you do, I will NEVER be yours," her voice dripped with disdain. 

"Oh yes, you will, you little whore," Marcus fumed. He pulled her full up against him and squeezed her breast hard with one hand. "You'll never be HIS again." 

"Jed is my HUSBAND." She tried to twist away from the pain his hand was causing. 

"You're mine, Abigail, or you're nobody's." The malicious glitter in his eyes was pure evil. 

"You need help, Marcus. You need a doctor. I was never yours. We weren't even friends." 

"SHUT UP!" He slapped her hard across the face. Abbey stumbled back from him, tears of pain blinding her. She tried to keep her alarm at bay. She had to remain calm. Ron's words from their self-defense lessons came back to her, _"Whatever you do, Abbey, don't panic."_ Her agents were dead, Max was outside, and Jed was at the White House. She was the only one who could save herself and her children. _"Your brain will be your most important weapon,"_ Ron had told her. She had to use that brain to outsmart Marcus. 

She kept her head down, her shoulders slightly shaking as if she were crying. 

"Why do you make me hurt you?" Marcus asked. When he placed his hand on her shoulder, Abbey took the element of surprise and stood abruptly giving him a vicious knee to the groin that caused him to bellow and double over in agony. Startled by what she had done, Abbey paused for a moment too long and as she turned to run, he was able to reach out and grab at her thigh to stop her. Adrenaline surged though her veins and she went for the second most vulnerable area on a man after his balls. She went for his eyes. Her fingernails raked from the corner of his eye down his cheek. Marcus shrieked and let go of her leg. Abbey took the window of opportunity she'd created and raced from the room at full speed. She came to a crashing halt just outside the nursery when she nearly tripped over the fallen body of one of her agents. 

She sucked in air trying to breathe as the panic began to overwhelm and tear through her again. She knelt beside the man placing a competent, if shaking, hand to his throat to check for a pulse. There wasn't any. When she realized the man was dead, Abbey wanted to curl up and cry. This was worse than any nightmare her own mind had conjured up. But, before she could give in to her fear and despair, she heard the twins crying inside the nursery and felt the strength of resolve fill her. She had to get her kids out of this mess. She knew what Marcus wanted to do with her, but there was no telling what he would do with her children. She shoved open the door to the nursery and gave a watery smile at seeing the two of them standing in their cribs crying. 

"Oh God…Oh my babies…you're all right." She moved quickly to the first crib grabbing Aislinn. When she turned to go for Nicholas, she gave a sharp cry of distress at seeing Izzy lying unconscious, and probably dead, on the floor. She swallowed convulsively and began to shake so hard she could barely walk. She wanted to help the woman, but right now, all thoughts were on her children. Any second she expected Marcus to slam the door open and stop her. Tears blinded her eyes as she grabbed for Nicholas. Then with a child on each hip, she ran toward to the door. She had no coherent thought as to where she was going, just that she had to get her kids away from that psychopath. 

She pulled the door open and as she hurried forward, her progress was halted as her body collided with another. Abbey screamed with terror, but her fright turned quickly to horror as she realized she had just run smack into Marcus Hughes. He was standing in the doorway before her – an immovable force. There was a look of fury on his face, hatred blazing in his eyes, blood dripping down his cheek, and a gleaming knife in his hand. 


	16. Love and Rage

Anita Baldwin had been a Secret Service agent for 15 years. She had been trained for every possible scenario, and yet she had never seen this one coming. She hadn't heard the gunshot, hadn't expected the bullet that slammed into her chest. She realized, after regaining consciousness, that he must have used a silencer. The First Lady would have not had any warning as to what was going on outside. 

Hughes had left Anita outside by the barn to die; only she hadn't died. She had no way of knowing how long she had been unconscious or what was going on in the house. Her job was to protect the First Lady and yet she knew it wasn't possible. She had lost too much blood; she was quite possibly dying, and yet she was still trying to think of what she could do to save Abigail Bartlet and her children. As her mind rolled around and around her dilemma, she heard movement. There was a whining and scratching coming from the barn that could only be Max. The dog was still alive and locked in the barn. If she could free him, maybe he could protect his mistress. It really was her only option. 

The barn was only one hundred yards away, but it seemed an insurmountable distance in the condition she was in. Still, she got to her knees and began to crawl through the dirt. Blood dripped from her chest into the earth. The effort it took to create movement caused her to cough, and she felt real fear when she looked at her hand and saw the bright red blood that she was coughing up. She had to pause every few moments to regain her strength and her breath. Her chest burned and every move was pure agony. But finally, after what seemed like hours, she made it to the barn. She pulled herself up by sheer strength of will and lifted the latch that locked the door from the outside. She watched with satisfaction as Max bounded away toward the house. She saw him begin to dig away at the screen door just as she lost consciousness and fell back to the ground. 

* * * * 

"Can't this damned thing go any faster?" Jed growled. 

"We'll be there any minute, Mr. President." Ron's words came out calmly but his insides were churning with the anxiety of what he was going to find at that farm. The First Lady's agents were either incapacitated in some way or they were dead. If they were dead, there was no telling what Marcus Hughes was doing to her or how they would get her away from him without harming her any further. 

Ron watched the President clench and unclench his fists. The rosary he always carried in his pocket dangled from one of those fists, and at times, he closed eyes against the nightmare visions that were playing out before him. 

Closing his eyes didn't help, Jed realized. It only made it easier to see Abbey and what she might be going through. He saw her crying and pleading with Hughes not to hurt her. He saw that lunatic slapping her, beating her, and touching her where he had no right to touch. He saw her the way she had been that night in Boston: torn clothes, bleeding lip, tear ravaged face. And, God help him, he saw that bastard raping her again. He could hear her screaming, "Help me, Jed!" and pleading for him to make Hughes stop. And where the hell was HE? Somewhere in the sky over Maryland. He had left his wife and children alone at the mercy of a madman. He had been joking around with friends at the White House while she could very well have been fighting for her virtue or even her life. He didn't know how he was going to live with himself if anything happened to her. 

His eyes opened and he turned to Ron. The agent felt as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him at the raw grief and anguish that he saw in the President's reddened eyes. He knew, at that moment, that however horrible the scenarios were that had been going through his mind, they were nothing compared to the atrocities the President was seeing. 

"She's going to be OK," Ron tried to comfort the man. 

"We have to get her out of this alive, Ron. That's all I care about." He turned back in his seat to gaze out the window. He could see Chesapeake Bay looming up ahead now and knew they were close. 

'Oh God, Abbey,' he thought to himself. 'I know you're a fighter, baby. I know you're tough. I know you don't want to beg but, dear Jesus, don't piss him off too badly. If you have to submit to survive, do it. Nothing matters, nothing but you staying alive. We can deal with anything else that happens together, but I can't go on living without you. Stay alive, Abbey darlin'… I'm coming.' 

* * * * 

"Going somewhere, Abigail?" The sinister tone of his voice and the venomous glare in his eyes caused Abbey to step back into the room. She pulled her children in more closely against her body. 

"Ahhh, look at that," he stepped closer, forcing her further back into the room. "The mama bear protecting her cubs. It might actually be sweet if they weren't HIS damn cubs." He reached out quickly and snatched Nicholas from her arms. 

"No!" Abbey cried. "Give me my baby back!" 

Nicholas shrieked in pain and fear at being grasped so harshly by the stranger. He was not used to being handled so roughly, and he reached back to his gentle mother, crying inconsolably. Her heart breaking, Abbey extended her arm, trying to take him back, but stopped short when she saw Marcus lift his knife. 

"This is the boy, isn't it?" He ran the dull edge of his knife down her son's cheek. Tears spilled from Nicky's blue eyes and he squirmed against his captor trying to get back to his mother. "You shouldn't have had him, Abigail. He should not exist." 

Any defiance Abbey might have had left disappeared with the threat to her son. She stood quietly, terrified of doing anything to enrage the deranged man. Nothing Ron had taught her in self-defense was going to help her when it came to Hughes using her children against her. 

Marcus' eyes fell to the large framed photos that graced the wall behind the cribs. He scanned past the one of Abigail in a rocking chair nursing one of the babies and settled on the one over the changing table. It was Jed Bartlet and five-month-old Nicholas, who was wearing just a diaper. Father and son both lay on the carpet on their bellies with their heads lifted up so that they were grinning at each other nose to nose. Marcus assumed Abigail had taken that one and felt the bitterness inside grow into violent anger. 

"I told you to be faithful to me. I WARNED you what would happen if you weren't and still you spread your legs for HIM. You let yourself get KNOCKED UP by HIM!" He slammed his fist into the picture causing the glass to shatter. Nicholas screamed in terror and began frantically trying to push away from the scary man. The shattering glass and raised angry voice had also scared Aislinn and her cries of distress joined her brother's. 

"Please…please, Marcus, don't hurt my baby…please give him back to me." Tears were streaming down Abbey's cheeks as she reached her arm out to take him back. Marcus was pleased to see that pleading surrender in her eyes and in the tone of her voice. It might be easier to control her than he had thought. 

He placed his hands around the crying baby's throat. "He's so small, so fragile. It really would be very easy to snap his neck." 

"NO!" Abbey screamed hysterically. "Please, I'll do anything, just don't hurt him." 

"Anything? What exactly would you do to get him back, Abigail?" Marcus grinned, tightening his hold on the baby's throat. 

"Anything," Abbey cried. The fear of what he was going to do to her now came secondary to doing whatever was necessary to keep her child alive. "I'll do whatever you want. Just don't hurt my baby." 

Marcus moved forward and ran his thumb over Abbey's lip and down her neck to her collarbone. He could feel her trembling, see the glossy sheen of tears in her eyes and he felt himself begin to harden at the evidence of his power over her. 

At that moment, they both heard the low growl coming from the doorway. Marcus turned and saw the big German Shepherd that Lori was supposed to have locked in the barn baring his teeth, his hackles raised on his shoulders. 

"Call him off, Abigail." Marcus shoved Nicholas back into her arms and turned to face the dog with his gun pointed. 

"Max, go lay down," Abbey ordered. She was terrified at what Marcus might do to the dog. But, for the first time since Abbey had gotten him, Max ignored her command. He continued to growl and bare his teeth at Marcus. "Max, go lay down." Abbey's voice was more frantic now as she realized the dog was not responding. She watched with horror as the muscles bunched in Max's hindquarters and he leaped forward. The bullet hit him in mid-stride. With a yelping howl of pain, the dog fell to the floor in a pool of blood. 

"No!" Abbey screamed as she fell to her knees beside the whimpering dog. "Oh Maxy…Maxy, why didn't you listen to me?" 

The dog thumped his tail at hearing his mistresses soothing voice and then ceased to whimper. 

"You BASTARD." Abbey looked up at Marcus, her face streaked with tears. "You unconscionable BASTARD. I HATE you." 

"Bad things happen when you don't listen to me. I told you to call him off." Both Aislinn and Nicholas were sobbing in their mother's arms and it was really getting on his nerves. "Shut them up, Abigail." 

Abbey tried to calm them but to no avail. They were confused and scared. Marcus wanted so badly to shut those brats up for good, but he had watched the panic in Abigail's eyes when he had threatened the boy. As long at those kids were alive, he had a way of controlling her, but as soon as their usefulness was no longer needed, he would simply do away with them. Just the thought of seeing HIS grief at the loss of his children gave Marcus a thrill of excitement. God, how he wished he could be there to see Jed Bartlet's face when he arrived at the farm to find his dog dead, both his children's throats slashed, his bedroom filled with another man's scent, and his wife long gone. The vision kindled the fire within him and his blood began to pump vigorously. He grabbed the kids against Abigail's protests and set them in the crib where they sat still, wailing with fear. Abbey suffered horribly at not being able to comfort them. 

"Let's go," he grabbed her arm harshly. "You have some promises to make good on." 

"Where are we going?" she swallowed with apprehension. 

"Well, I had planned on taking you far away from here for our special little rendezvous, but after seeing that bed I know exactly where I'm going to screw you. We're going to do it right where HE put it to you last night. I'm going to take you and take you until my scent covers the sheets and covers you and I wipe away every remnant of his smell from that bed and from your body. Yes, I SMELL him on you, Abigail. 

Abbey could see the lust burning in his eyes and she realized with a shiver that he truly was insane. He wanted to cover Jed's scent the way a male animal did to show his dominance. Animal…Yes, Marcus Hughes was an animal and she didn't know how on earth she was going to find the strength to survive what this animal had in store for her. 

* * * * 

Marine One landed on the outskirts of the Harmony Point property. Ron was unwilling to give up the element of surprise in lieu of a speedier response. Secret Service agents and U.S. Marshals began to fan across the property, surrounding and securing it. Ron knew that it would be no comfort to the President to know that whatever happened to his wife, Marcus Hughes would not escape from their clutches this time. The President had only one goal. One VERY determined goal and that was to prevent his wife from being hurt. 

Jed's stomach clenched and his heart began to race erratically as they approached the farm and saw the two fallen agents. One was by the barn, the other on the porch stairs. It was the worse case scenario. Abbey's agents WERE dead, and God only knew what was happening to her. Panic set in and he began to race up the stairs. 

"Mr. President, WAIT!" With some difficulty, Ron and another agent reached the President and held him back. 

"She's in there ALONE with him!" His eyes were wild terror. 

"Yes, she is. We need to be smart about this. We can't go barreling in. We need the element of surprise. We need to go in quietly and assess the situation. Can you do that?" 

Jed knew that if his answer were no that he would not be allowed in. 

"Yes," he bit out grudgingly. 

The agents gave each other puzzled looks as they took in the ripped and torn screen door, but Jed saw the claw marks on the wood. 

"Max," he said, swallowing hard past the lump in his throat. Obviously, what had gone on was bad enough to cause the dog to be in some kind of frenzy to get inside. He just hoped that he had been some measure of protection for Abbey. 

As soon as they entered the house, they could hear the hysterical crying of the twins. Jed's first thought was to thank God that they were alive. His second thought was to wonder what had happened to cause them to scream like that. He made his way quickly to the nursery, and like Abbey before him, crashed to a halt at the evidence of another dead agent. But, unlike Abbey, he didn't stop to check for a pulse. He immediately moved to push the door open. Ron stopped him and stepped in front of him. With his gun drawn, he opened the door and peered around. When all was clear, he allowed the President to enter. 

Nicholas and Aislinn were both standing in the same crib, sobbing uncontrollably for their mother. Their faces were sweaty, red and blotchy, making it obvious that they had been crying for a long time. The body of their dog lay stretched out in a pool of blood. Jed stood for a moment stunned and in shock at the violence that had been perpetrated on his family and the people who protected them today. 

"Da!" Aislinn cried upon seeing her father. "Dada!" His daughter's voice snapped Jed out of his stunned stupor and he moved to scoop both children into his arms holding them close and trying to comfort and calm them. While his voice soothed, his pulse began to race at the evidence of the struggle that had taken place in the room. Red marks marred Nicholas' neck, glass lay shattered over the floor and drops of blood stained the carpet. He saw Ron kneeling behind the other crib and that was when he noticed Izzy. 

"Oh God." He closed his eyes against what had been done to his children's nanny. 

"She's still alive, sir," Ron told him. "He didn't shoot her. It looks like he knocked her out with a blow to the head." Jed moved forward and saw the huge purple egg on Izzy's temple. The woman began to moan as Ron spoke to her. 

"H…help her," Izzy groaned. 

"Help who?" Ron asked. 

"A…Abbey…He's hurting her…I heard her…screaming." 


	17. Love and Rage

Leo sped through the Maryland countryside trying, like Ron and Jed, not to dwell on the horrible scenarios his mind was conjuring up. The thought of anyone hurting Abbey made him sick to his stomach. He remembered the look of fear in her beautiful eyes when she had confided in him how much just the THOUGHT of Hughes scared her. This was exactly what she had been afraid was going to happen and HE had assured her none of them would let Hughes get to her. How on earth had they allowed this to happen? He couldn't even imagine what Jed had to be going through right now. Couldn't imagine how his friend was going deal with it if Abbey was hurt again. He couldn't help but remember how devastated and completely torn up inside Jed had been after Abbey's attack. The man had been absolutely riddled with guilt. A part of him still was. 

The women in the back seat mirrored his thoughts. CJ had come along in a professional capacity. Whatever was happening in Port Harmony would, at some point, be her responsibility to pass on to the press. But, she had also come as a friend. Abbey had opened up and confided in her about everything that had happened. She had seen the pain, knew Abbey's fears, and she had come along to be moral support for her friend, as well as to do her job. Millie's interest was purely personal. Abbey had been her best friend since college. They had been maids of honor at each other's weddings, were godmothers to each other's children, together she and Jed had helped Abbey to deliver Ellie in that snowstorm. It had been Millie that Abbey had turned to for moral support after the rape. Millie that she had discussed abortion with when she thought she might have gotten pregnant from the assault. And now, Millie was determined to be there for her to help deal with the consequences of whatever occurred. 

"I can't believe this is happening," CJ shook her head. "She was so afraid of just this kind of thing happening and we were all so sure that it couldn't." 

"I was on duty in the ER when Jed brought her in after the attack," Millie told her. "That beast really worked her over." 

"She told me," CJ swallowed. "I can't imagine what it must have been like to be treated so roughly that you would need stitches." 

Leo's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as he tired to tune out what the women were saying in the back seat of the car. He knew the details of Abbey's attack; however, he couldn't stand to think about it. 

"It's not just Abbey either. This is so hard on Jed. I remember seeing him after they had taken Abbey into an exam room before he joined her. He was sitting in the waiting room of the ER filling out the paperwork for her admission and he just looked absolutely shell shocked. As if his world had just been turned upside down, and in a way it was. At least for a while." 

"Abbey said it was really hard on him," CJ agreed. 

"It was hard on both of them. I'm just so afraid that this time he's going to kill her." Millie's eyes filled with tears and the car went silent as each passenger prayed in their own way that Abigail Bartlet be spared. 

* * * * 

"This is a whole new side to you, Abigail." Marcus gave her a sinister grin while he traced the dull edge of his knife along her cheekbone as he had done earlier with her son. "So submissive and obedient. What a difference from the wildcat you were the last time." 

Abbey's eyes looked past him, over his shoulder, to scan her bedroom. She saw the rumpled bed where Jed had made such achingly sweet love to her last night. She thought about the gentle caresses, the tender words of love, and the way her body had strained to be joined with that of her lover's. She couldn't believe that an act that had been so beautiful and giving could be turned into something so vile and vicious and so utterly hateful. This man had raped her hundreds of times in her nightmares, yet she had never truly believed that it could happen to her again. Jed had promised her that he wouldn't let this happen again. Her eyes swam with tears as she thought of the dear, concerned face of her husband. 'Oh Jed, where are you?' she wondered. 'I need you.' 

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Marcus ground out angrily. Abbey winced as his grip tightened on her slender wrist and she turned, eyes filled with hostility and hate on him. "Ah, so there IS still some fire smoldering in there." 

His eyes moved insolently up and down her half-naked figure. Standing before him in that skimpy satin and lace slip that barely covered her hips and left all of her shapely legs exposed, she looked just like he'd dreamed after going through her lingerie drawer. Her breasts strained against the fabric and he could see the outline of her nipples. Her tousled copper hair brushed along her delicate shoulders. Fire and tears burned in her amazing sea colored eyes. 

"You are so beautiful." The words were said as if he resented that fact, not the soft, loving way that Jed would say it. 

Hughes remembered with mounting excitement the way it had been that wonderful summer night in Boston. Remembered how she had fought and clawed like a wildcat and how it had felt to feel the fight drain from her body when he tore into her, slamming himself to his hilt. He remembered the exhilaration of his domination of her and how she had wept while he made love to her. He remembered the jolting thrill of stimulation he'd felt at the way she had cried out in pain with every deep thrust. He remembered how amazing it had felt to ejaculate inside her at the very moment that HE entered the room. What satisfaction that had been. His smile faded as his thoughts moved to what had occurred after his orgasm. That son of a bitch who called himself her husband had nearly killed him. And Abigail, his one true love, had turned on him and had him thrown in jail. 

"It's just too bad that you are such a faithless BITCH!" He sliced the knife down sharply between her breasts cutting the lace to reveal more of her chest. Abbey inhaled sharply her hands immediately moving to cover her chest. 

"Don't." He pushed her hands away. "Don't you dare cover them." He slid one hand inside the material to squeeze the breast he'd tried to uncover. 

"Don't do this." Abbey shook her head and tried to twist away from that hateful, hurtful hand. "Please, don't do this to me." 

It had been the wrong thing to say. Fury filled Hughes' eyes as he gripped Abbey's chin squeezing cruelly. 

"Don't PRETEND you don't like it, Abigail. I was there. I WATCHED you whore yourself in that barn. I watched what you let HIM do to you. I watched what you did to HIM. I watched you BEG him for more, like a BITCH in heat. You WANT it, you little slut, and I'm gonna give it to you better than HE ever did." He yanked her to him and still holding her chin tightly he kissed her brutally, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Abbey pushed at his chest trying not to gag on his invading tongue. It was all happening again, just like before. His fetid breath was in her face, his hands were on her breasts and he was going to violate her again because she was powerless to stop him. Somewhere inside, she knew that she couldn't allow that to happen. She couldn't allow him to rob her of her of all the healing that had been so painstakingly accomplished over the years. She couldn't allow him to steal who she was again. Somehow, she had to hold on until Jed came home for lunch with his agents. 

Jed, oh God, Jed. How would he be able to stomach this happening again? He'd promised her he would protect her. It was going to kill him that he had been unable to do so. It was the thought of the love and the strength that she received from her husband that galvanized her to action. All she could think about was stopping this assault, not what the payback would be. She bit down hard on Hughes tongue, and twisted out of his arms. 

"You BITCH!" he shrieked. One hand moved to cover his mouth, but the other reached out for her, grabbing at her slip so that she fell face first on the bed. Her slip rode up over her hips revealing her scanty silk panties, but it wasn't her lingerie that Hughes' eyes lingered on. It was the tattoo on the back of her right hip, just above the swell of her rear, that caught his attention and his wrath. 

Abbey screamed in pain as he grabbed handful of her hair and yanked her head back ruthlessly. 

"What the FUCK does JDB stand for?" He demanded. 

"You know what it stands for," Abbey's voice trembled, but her eyes were defiant. 

"You tell me. I want to hear you say it. SAY IT!" He pulled her hair harder, causing tears to fill her eyes. 

"Josiah Daniel Bartlet," she said, looking him straight in the eye through her tears. Oh, how he couldn't wait wipe that defiance out of her eyes. She wouldn't be so damned high and mighty when he was ramming himself inside her. 

"You're MINE, Abigail, not HIS." He flipped her onto her back and pinned her shoulders to the bed in the same spot that Jed had tenderly kissed her the night before. Abbey struggled and pushed at him knowing that she couldn't endure this again. She couldn't stand the shame and degradation of this kind of violation. Something inside her was going to die if he did this to her again. Yet, even if she got away, there was nowhere to go. He would kill her children. She was helpless, powerless, and yet some inner reserve inside would not let her quit. She lifted her knee trying to find his groin but that only helped him to separate her thighs more easily. She felt his erection through his pants and then his hands were at her underwear, tugging them down. 

* * * * 

On his way down the hall toward the bedroom, Jed heard the anguished soul-shattering scream of his wife, and for one awful moment, he knew he was too late. His blood turned to ice in his veins and he ran forward to charge at the door. 

"Abbey!" he shouted, shoving at the locked door. 

"Jed!" Abbey screamed before Hughes could cover her mouth. "Help me, Jed!" She felt a relief so profound at hearing her husband's voice, she nearly wept. 

Jed shoved the door with his shoulder to no avail. He had taken off down the hall without Ron, and now the agent was shouting for him to stop. He didn't want the President walking into a potentially volatile situation, but Jed ignored him. He could hear Abbey screaming his name, could hear the crashes of a struggle, and worse yet, the grunts and angered voice of a male. He began to kick furiously at the door until it finally burst open. Ron arrived at his side just as the door gave way and he grabbed the President before he could rush in. 

Jed's eyes widened and his heart began to pound fiercely in his chest. 

Marcus Hughes held his wife back against his chest with his knife pressed to her throat. Jed took in the torn white slip that was splattered with blood. He saw the cut on Abbey's lip and the reddened skin on her jaw where Hughes had hit her. He had no way of knowing just how far things had gone. Fury and indignation rose within him and his body tensed ready to pounce. Ron grabbed the President's arm, sure that the enraged man might not be able to hold himself back. 

"Jed," Abbey choked. 

"It's okay, honey. I'm here now." He looked up at Marcus. "You take your FUCKING hands OFF my wife." 

"You come any closer and I'll slit her throat." Marcus pushed the tip of the knife just a little harder against Abbey's neck and a drop of blood beaded on her pale skin. 

Sickened, Jed watched the blood trickle down her chest and stain the lace edge of her slip. 

"I make the rules here, Mr. President. I'M the boss, not YOU and since you decided to screw everything up by arriving early, I think I'll enjoy putting on a show for you. You only caught the tail end of our lovemaking the last time. I think you might enjoy seeing the whole experience first hand. Then, when I'm done fucking her, I think I'll use my knife here to carve my initials right over that tattoo she has with yours." 

"You touch her and you're a DEAD man," Jed's eyes were icy, his voice flat and deadly. It was a tone that Abbey had never heard him use before and it sent a chill down her spine. 

"Just who the hell do you think you are?" Marcus laughed. "I'm the one holding all the cards here. I have the knife and that makes ME the boss. I will touch Abigail wherever I want to touch her." To prove his point he slid his hand over Abbey's breast. Abbey closed her eyes at the shame of being touched so intimately by another man in front of her husband and the Secret Service agent. 

Ron tightened his hold on the President as he knew one of these moves might send him off like a loose cannon. 

"Get your slimy hands OFF her!" Jed fumed as he struggled against Ron's hold. 

"I watched you in the barn. I watched how Abigail likes having her breasts played with. She sighs and moans, doesn't she, JED?" He deliberately refused to call him by his title. "But what really makes her cry out is when you touch her here." Hughes slipped his hand down between Abbey's legs and she cried out with mortification. 

"You SON OF BITCH!" Jed twisted out of Ron's grasp and started to charge forward only to be brought up short by Abbey's cry of pain as Hughes pushed the knife harder into her skin. The cry of pain had stopped him in mid-stride and he stopped in the middle of the room with his fists clenched, his face red with rage. Never in his life had he felt such frustration and impotence. This psychopath was going to rape his wife right in front of him and there was not a damn thing he could do to stop him without hurting her. His hands ITCHED to get a hold of Marcus Hughes throat and choke the very life out of him. 

"Let her go, Marcus," Ron stated authoritatively. "You're surrounded here by Secret Service and U.S. Marshals. You can't get away. We're going to take you away." 

"Maybe, maybe not." 

"You won't make it to be taken away," Jed seethed. "I swear to God, I'm going to KILL you for what you've done to my wife and kids." 

"Well, I'll die happy then, 'cause you ain't seen nothin' yet. Abigail, get down on your knees," he ordered." 

"Wh…what?" Abbey trembled with confusion. 

"I watched you in that barn. You seemed pretty talented with that little mouth of yours. Let's show your hubby here that he isn't the only one you can perform on." 

"No…Please don't make me do this." Abbey hated the pleading tone to her voice, but she just could not perform oral sex on another man. She could not bear the humiliation of her husband and Ron watching her do that. 

Marcus ignored Abbey's pleas and pushed her shoulders down until she was on her knees in front of him. Tears rolled down Abbey's cheeks now. She wanted so badly to go deep inside herself. Deep inside that place where no one could hurt her. But something stopped her from doing so. Some part of her knew that if she did that, it would all be over. 

"Go away, Jed, please." Her voice was so soft it was almost a whisper. 

"Abbey?" Jed's eyes filled with tears of frustration and pain at what this man had put his wife through and what he was about to make her do. 

"I can't bear it if you watch this. Please go." She turned pleading, pain-filled eyes toward her husband. "Please." Her shoulders began to shake as she started to softly cry. 

Ron felt the furor build in him at what this deviant was doing to the First Lady. But, unlike her husband, he was trained to swallow anger and think rationally. While Hughes was taking delight in his power over the First Couple and trying to get his pants unbuttoned with one hand, Ron sidled over closer to the fallen baby monitor. They needed a distraction, one little distraction to get that knife away from Abbey's throat. 

"I'm not leaving you, Abbey," Jed vowed. "No matter what this pervert does to you, it doesn't effect who you are. It won't effect how I feel about you, how much I love you. It won't affect US." 

"Maaa…ma!" Nicholas's plaintive cry filled the room, startling all present. Marcus snapped around to see where the sound had come from and Abbey felt the knife slide away from her throat. She immediately went into action using the moves Ron had taught her. She kneed Marcus in the groin and slammed the heel of her palm into his nose, breaking it on impact. Hughes doubled over in pain; but as Abbey turned to run, he lifted his knife to stab down on her retreating form. 

"NO!" Jed cried and lunged forward. His rage was so all consuming he never felt the knife penetrate his skin. He fell on top of Marcus and slammed the rapist's head into the hard wood floor. "I'm going to kill you for what you've done to my wife…I'm gonna KILL you…" 

Ron had grabbed the First Lady as she had fallen forward and had been unable to prevent the President from his attack. Neither he nor Abbey had seen Marcus stab him. 

"Ron, stop him!" Abbey cried frantically. "He really will kill him." 

Ron was already pressing ahead but stopped when he saw the President pick up the gleaming knife and press it to Hughes' throat. 

Jed laughed malevolently at the terror that filled Hughes' eyes. His hair fell over his forehead, sweat beaded his brow and his blue eyes blazed with a savage fury the likes of which Abbey had only seen one time before. He was wild with the need for revenge. 

"Are you scared, you fucking little pervert? How does it feel to have the shoe on the other foot? You think it's FUNNY to hurt and scare women and little children? You hurt MY son and MY wife. You're sure as HELL gonna pay for that." He pushed the tip of the knife into Hughes' throat drawing blood. 

"Now, I just have to choose how you'll die. Should I slit your throat like you threatened to do to my WIFE? Or should I just break your goddamn neck like you wanted to do to my SON? Maybe I should just cut your fucking balls off. I'll castrate you, you son of a bitch, and you'll NEVER rape another woman EVER again." 

"Jed, NO!" Abbey cried. "Please don't. Nicky and I are fine, don't do this." 

"Sir, put down the knife," Ron stated calmly. "I think we'd all like to see this piece of trash dead, but you can't kill him." 

"Yes, I can. I can kill him for what he's put my family through." 

Hughes cried out as Jed pushed the knife harder still. 

"Jed." Abbey kneeled in front of him. "Look at me. If you kill him, you'll go to prison. We'll spend the rest of our lives apart. You won't get see Nicholas and Aislinn grow up or be a part of their lives. Please, Jed, that piece of scum isn't worth what we have. It isn't worth the rest of our lives." 

Jed's gaze moved to Abbey and as he focused on her lovely face, some of the bloodlust faded from his eyes. Still, it was a struggle for him to take the knife away from Hughes' throat. 

"You're right," he looked down at Marcus with disgust. "You're not worth going to prison over." But before he relinquished the knife to Ron, he pulled his arm back and punched Marcus in the jaw snapping the man's head back with a satisfying thunk. "That's for Nicholas," Jed ground out harshly. He drew his fist back again and slammed it into the other side of his jaw. "That's for Max." Ron could have stopped him, but, truth be told, he was he was enjoying watching the President make this man pay for the crimes committed against his family. 

Jed stood and Marcus moaned thinking the assault was over. It wasn't. Jed drew his foot back and gave him a hard kick to the kidneys. Marcus cried out and groaned in agony. "THAT was for Abbey." Jed looked down at the beaten man with hatred and disgust before turning to hand the knife to Ron. As soon as he did, the room filled with agents cuffing and taking Hughes away. 

Abbey stood dazed and shaking. She wasn't sure her legs would carry her if she moved forward. But, when Jed opened his arms, she launched herself forward into them, burying her face in his chest sobbing as if her heart would break. 

"Ssh…Ssh, baby. It's all right. It's all over…it's all over. Oh God, I could have lost you." He released her gently, and pushed back to look into her eyes. His own eyes were filled with pain and worry. "Abbey…did he…" 

"No," she reassured him through her tears. She reached up a hand to stroke his cheek tenderly. "You got here in time." 

"Thank God," he let out his breath and his face softened as he pulled her back into his embrace. Relief flooded him as he buried his face into the curve of her neck. He moved to stroke his hand up her back and suddenly his relief turned to horror. Bright red blood covered Abbey's back and saturated her slip. 

"Oh my God, Abbey, where did he hurt you?" He pulled back and began frantically checking her over for wounds. 

"It's not me, Jed. He didn't hurt me." Her eyes widened with alarm as she noticed that the whole left side of Jed's shirt was soaked with blood. She reached her hands out and ripped his shirt open, tearing all the buttons off. Jed's chest was covered with blood and Abbey pushed the shirt back off his shoulders, her pulse racing with panic. Suddenly, she stopped and looked up at Jed with alarm. 

"Oh Christ, Jed," she moaned. "He STABBED you!" 


	18. Love and Rage

As Leo maneuvered his Mercedes sedan down the shaded lane of the Bartlets' Harmony Point farm, he realized that he was holding his breath. He was not the man of faith that Jed was. He had lost that innocence in Vietnam; but as he came to the end of the drive, he found himself praying for his two best friends. 

All conversation ceased in the car as they came to the clearing and were confronted by a sight worse than they could have imagined. Blue and red lights flashed from emergency rescue vehicles. U.S. Marshals and paramedics were rushing around loading dead and injured Secret Service agents into the ambulances. 

"Oh my God," CJ breathed. She stepped out of the car along with Leo and Millie and closed her eyes briefly against the horrific sight. 

Leo was numb. He wanted to move forward, but his legs were frozen. He watched with shock as Max's bloodied body was wheeled by him. 

"Oh shit, no," he groaned. That dog was Abbey's last line of defense. If he'd been taken out that meant that the worst had happened. Hughes had gotten to Abbey. Everything he'd promised her had been a lie. His eyes caught CJ's and saw that hers reflected his own fear and disbelief. His gaze then fell back on the big white farmhouse with a sick feeling that any moment he would watch Abbey or Jed being wheeled out of there on a gurney. 

It was Millie who spurred them on to action. An ER doctor for many years, Dr. Millicent Griffiths had seen far worse than the chaos here. What concerned her, at the moment, was getting inside and seeing just how hurt her best friend might be. Leo and CJ followed Millie up the porch stairs and into the house. 

Once inside they could hear both Aislinn and Nicholas crying. All three raced up the stairs, relieved, at least, that the babies were still alive. A U.S. Marshal stopped them short at the top of the stairs. Secret Service agents lined the hall between the nursery and the master bedroom. 

"I'm Leo McGarry, the President's chief of staff," Leo informed the marshal. "What is going on in there?" 

"I'm afraid the suspect has Mrs. Bartlet held at knife point." 

Millie gasped and CJ reached out a hand for support. 

"Well, what are you all doing out here?" Leo asked angrily. 

"Agent Butterfield and the President are in with them." 

"THE PRESIDENT is in there?" CJ's eyes widened with disbelief. "I can't believe that Ron let him go in there." 

"I can," Leo said flatly. He knew just how persuasive and stubborn Jed could be when he wanted something. He just hoped that his friend could handle this. Given Jed's volatile hatred of Marcus Hughes and his need to avenge his wife, Leo was afraid that nothing good could come of this situation. One of them would probably end up dead, and given that Marcus Hughes was armed with a knife and Jed only with outrage, he feared the outcome. 

From just down the hall in the nursery, CJ could hear the heartrending sobs of Nicholas and Aislinn Bartlet who were crying almost hysterically for their parents' comfort. 

"Please." She touched the marshal's shoulder. "Let us go to the children." The marshal looked at the three anxious faces and nodded his acquiescence. 

Both babies were fighting and crying at being held in the strange arms of Secret Service agents they didn't know. The men were trying to give comfort, but both looked awkward and out of their element. The three people who did know these children entered the room and approached the harried agents. 

"Hi, Ash. It's me, Auntie CJ." CJ took her wailing goddaughter into her arms and began to bounce her on her hip as she had seen Abbey do dozens of times. Aislinn began to calm in CJ's familiar arms and her sobs soon turned to soft hiccups. 

Millie did not have it quite so easy with the traumatized Nicholas. The baby boy was obviously still frightened and upset by everything that had occurred and only his mother was going to do. 

"Maaa…ma…Maa…ma…Maa…ma," his heartbreaking cries filled the room. 

Leo's eyes closed as he tried to tune out Nicky's plaintive pleas for his mother. Lord only knew what his mother was going through right now. As he moved to lean against the wall, his eyes suddenly snapped back open. Without warning, the silence in the hall was broken by shouting and agents rushing forward toward the master bedroom with their weapons drawn. 

He stood in the doorway and watched as the agents dragged a beaten Hughes down the hall. Blood gushed from his nose, his lips, and the scratch marks near his eyes. His face was bruised and discolored. Leo felt a wave of gratification that someone, most probably Jed, had given the rapist the beating he so richly deserved. Ron wouldn't have taken the time to beat the daylights out of the perverted psychopath, but Jed would. His friend was usually an affable sort, certainly non-combative; however, when it came to his family, another side to this complex man came to the forefront. A man who would fight to the death to protect the people he loved. 

Despite his bloodied and beaten state, Hughes was still defiant as he was dragged down the halls. 

"It's not over, Abigail!" he shouted back down the hall toward the bedroom. "It will NEVER be over. You're going to pay for this, you BITCH!" 

Chills ran down Leo's spine at the conviction in the rapist's words. Would it ever be over for Abbey? 

* * * * 

Jed looked down with surprise at the blood covering his shoulder and chest. 

"Abbey, I don't feel a thing," he said with astonishment. 

"You're going into shock, baby. Sit down." Abbey pushed him gently down into the chair by the fireplace. She ripped his shirt completely off his shoulders and tried to wipe away the blood to see where he was wounded. She found the laceration in his upper left arm. It was pumping blood, but not enough to worry her that an artery had been severed. She looked frantically from side to side for something to stop the bleeding with. Finding nothing, she pulled her silk panties down her legs. 

"I don't think there is enough material in those skimpy little panties you wear to make a sufficient bandage," Jed smiled weakly at her. 

Abbey shook her head. Even bleeding like a stuck pig, her husband was still cracking jokes. "I'm not making a bandage, sugar pie. I'm making a tourniquet." 

Abbey was just finishing tying the tourniquet when Ron came back into the room. He had left briefly to see Hughes put into the cruiser and had missed the drama that had taken place in his absence. His eyes widened with shock as he took in the blood-covered torso of the President. 

"Blue! Blue!" he called out urgently. The room quickly filled with the few agents who were still on the second floor. Ron spoke into his wrist radio and moved toward the President. He didn't think the First Lady even noticed that he and his colleagues had entered the room. She was too busy trying to keep her husband from going into shock. To that end, she had quickly unbuckled his belt and was now busy unbuttoning his pants to loosen them. While she worked, she spoke to him in soft soothing tones. 

"Abbey," Jed gave a soft groan. "I know how much you like to undress me, hot stuff, but it looks like we've got company." 

Abbey turned her head to gaze at Ron who stood behind her with a worried frown on his face. 

"I've just called for a gurney, Mr. President," Ron assured him. "We're going to get you to a hospital ASAP." His eyes moved to the slight form of the First Lady kneeling at the President's side and, taking in her near nakedness, he slid off his suit coat and placed it over her shoulders. 

Abbey gave him a quick appreciative smile. She had been so wrapped up in caring for Jed, she hadn't realized just how bare she actually was. 

"No," Jed stated firmly. "I'm not going to the hospital." 

"Jed, you need stitches," Abbey informed him. "You need to get to the hospital." 

"It's just a cut. I'm not going to the hospital." 

"It's NOT just a cut." Abbey was getting exasperated now. "It's a STAB wound. You need a doctor." 

"I have a doctor, sweet cheeks. I have the smartest, sexiest doctor in the country at my beck and call twenty-four hours a day." 

"I hope you're not referring to Admiral Hackett, "Abbey grumbled. 

"You know better than that." He reached a finger out to touch her cheek. Abbey watched him wince in pain and knew that the shock was starting to wear off. It was what she had been working so diligently for, but she also knew it meant a hell of a lot more pain for her husband. 

"It's starting to hurt, isn't it?" she asked knowingly. 

"Just a little," he admitted. If he told her that the searing, burning pain was starting to make him physically sick, she would have him on that gurney in no time flat. 

Abbey could see right through her husband's bravado. The gray quality of his skin, the beads of sweat on his forehead and the pain-filled eyes he closed to keep hidden from her scrutiny, all bespoke of the agony he was now in. 

"It hurts more than a little, Jed, and you ARE going to the hospital." 

"NO." 

Abbey looked at him puzzled. She could not figure out why he was being so stubborn about this. 

"Why don't you want to go to the hospital, sweetheart?" Abbey changed her tactics and spoke softly against his hairline. 

"Because if I go to the hospital, this will be all over the news." They were speaking in whispers now to keep their words from reaching Ron where he stood near the door waiting for the gurney. 

"I have news for you, Hon. This IS going to be all over the news." 

"I mean my part in this. If it gets out that Ron let me come with him, knowing that Hughes was here, he could lose his job." 

"Jed," 

"No, Abbey, listen to me. He did me a favor, one man to another. I can't repay him for that by causing him to lose his job. You can stitch me up, can't you?" 

Abbey looked from her husband to the agent by the door. If it weren't for these two men and the innocent cry of her baby son, she would have been raped, maybe even murdered. Her children might have been killed. She owed them everything. 

"It doesn't look like you damaged any muscle. I can stitch it up," she agreed. 

"That's my girl." Jed tried to smile, but had to close his eyes against the wave a burning pain that moved through his arm. 

"Ron, we're not going to the hospital," Abbey called out. "We won't need the gurney." 

"It's my duty to get the President medical care." 

"And you will. I'm going to stitch him up." 

"Mrs. Bartlet, I appreciate what you and the President are trying to do here, but I need to accept the consequences of my actions." 

"Ron, you taught me those self defense moves that made me able to get away from Hughes. Jed took the knife that was meant for me. If it wasn't for the two of you, I would have been raped or killed." 

"I was doing my job, ma'am. And if I'd done it properly, the President would not be injured." 

"And I might be dead right now. The only thing that stopped Hughes was his need to torture Jed with what he was going to do to me. If Jed hadn't been here, he would have just done it. The wound is not all that deep. I shouldn't have any problems suturing it closed. I don't like to throw this around very much, but I'm a pretty gifted surgeon. A cut like this is a piece of cake." 

She snapped her fingers and flashed a saucy smile at the agent that went straight to his gut. He had a feeling that it was the smile that Abigail Bartlet used to get her way, and he'd be damned if it didn't work exceedingly well for her. He had a feeling the President never really stood a chance against his wife when she wanted something badly enough. 

* * * * 

Leo's eyes widened as he entered the master suite and his gaze fell to President and the First Lady. He swallowed tightly as he took in Abbey's torn blood splattered slip that wasn't completely covered by the oversized black jacket Ron had slipped over her shoulders to cover her. He took in the blood drying on the corner of her lip, the slight bruise on her jaw, and the ragged claw marks on the swell of one breast. As she moved slightly to the side to take her black medical bag from Ron, he nearly gasped in shock. The President was leaning back in a chair, his chest drenched in blood. A pair of white silk panties were rolled up and used to make a tourniquet above the deep gash in his arm. It was quite evident that some pretty violent acts had taken place here today. He couldn't tell whether Ron and Jed had gotten there soon enough to prevent Abbey from being penetrated, but, in any case, it was obvious that she had been worked over pretty good before their arrival. Whatever had happened had angered Jed enough for him to beat the crap out of Hughes and now it seemed that there had been some serious consequences to that. 

"Abbey, what are you doing?" Millie asked as she watched Ron hand her friend the black leather medical bag she always carried. 

"I have to suture Jed's arm. Hughes stabbed him in the left bicep." Abbey was acting on pure adrenaline now. She had closed off the emotions of the situation and had moved herself into doctor mode. "The knife missed the brachial artery and the Teres major, so I don't see any tendon damage." 

"He STABBED him?" Millie was stunned. Things like a stabbing happened to gang members from Roxbury, not friends of hers. Not the President of the United States. 

"The knife was meant for me." The words were spoken softly, but they took Abbey out of her carefully controlled doctor facade and back into that of a wife. A guilt-ridden wife, whose husband had risked his life for her. Her hand began to tremble, her eyes to swim with tears. 

"Abbey. He needs to get to the hospital." Millie pried the bag from her friend's fingers. "You're not in any state to do this." 

"I'm going to do this, Millie." Abbey willed the emotions that pulled at her back down to where she could manage them. "We can't go to the hospital. We can't let the press know that Jed was involved in any of this." 

"He's your HUSBAND. You should not be working on your husband. At least, let me do it." 

"No," Abbey was adamant. "We got people involved before and look where it got us. If by any chance this ever gets out, the only people that will be to blame are Jed and me. None of you know anything about this, and that is the way it is going to stay." 

Abbey slid her glasses on and began to fill a syringe as Millie began to dig into her medical bag. "Well, I AM going to at least help you, Abigail, whether you like it or not." She began to cleanse Jed's wound with antiseptic. 

Jed's eyes squeezed shut and he gave a sharp intake of breath at the searing pain that burned from his shoulder to his fingertips. 

"It's OK, baby." Abbey stroked the soft hair on his forearm. "I don't have any local anesthetic, but I want you to take a couple of these pills. They'll help." She handed him an open prescription bottle and Leo gave him a glass of water. 

"What're these?" He squinted, and without his glasses, he could barely make out that the prescription was made out to Abigail Bartlet. "These are your pills, Abbey. What are they for?" 

"They'll help you relax, Jed. Just take a couple." Abbey ignored his consternation and prepared to inject him with penicillin to combat any infection. 

"YOU have a prescription for Valium? Since when do you take drugs to relax? OW!" he exclaimed as Abbey stuck him in the upper arm with the needle. 

"It's not Valium, Jed." Abbey rolled her eyes as she held a cotton ball to the needle's entry. "For your information, I do happen to know what I am talking about. I'm a doctor, for God's sake. Take the damn pills." She shook two out and handed them to him with a stern look that brooked no nonsense. 

"God, are you sexy when you're bossy." He grinned at her and popped the pills. "Are you happy now, Doc?" 

"Exceedingly." She sat and began to thread a needle to start stitching him up. 

"Now will you tell me what they were prescribed to you for?" 

"Menstrual cramps." She bit back a smile at the look of outrage on Jed's face. 

"You gave me pills for a non-existent PERIOD. Did I look like I was bloating? Or was I just being a little too bitchy." 

"Watch it, mister." Abbey gazed up at him over the rim of her glasses. "I'm going to be the one sewing you up." Leo, Millie and CJ exchanged looks of humor. 

"Menstrual pills." Jed shook his head with disgust. 

"Oh for heaven's sake, Jed, it's not like I gave you estrogen. You won't be growing boobs anytime soon. They are prescribed to ME for use against menstrual cramps, but they are simply muscle relaxants and they will help you relax while I suture your wound." 

"I swear to God, CJ, if this ever gets out to the press, I will know JUST where to seek my revenge." He leaned his head back against the chair, the dialogue weakening him. 

"Mum's the word, Mr. President," CJ laughed. "But maybe I'll keep a few of those on me and the next time you're moody, I'll slip them in your coffee. 

Jed tried to give her the presidential glare, but Abbey had started to sew him up and it hurt like hell. 

For a few moments, Jed watched his wife work. Her glasses had slipped to the end of her nose, she was biting down softly on her full lower lip, and her brow was furrowed with concentration. She was utterly adorable. That is until she began to pull the edges of his gaping wound together with the sutures. Then he had to fight against the sharp bursts of white-hot flashing pain. 

"I'm sorry….I'm so sorry, baby," Abbey murmured the words softly over and over and no matter how many times Jed groaned that it was OK, she was still wracked with guilt over causing him any pain. 

Abbey felt his every wince and every pull of his forearm away from the pain she was inflicting on him. She had to swallow past a lump in her throat to continue on. She tried to close herself off to his sharp intakes of breath and his occasional groans, but that was impossible. She wasn't a robot, she was his wife and it was killing her to hurt him. 

Abbey's face was pale, her lips nearly bloodless and from the look on her face, Millie had to wonder just who this was hurting more. 

"I hate to bring this up right now," CJ said uncomfortably. "But I'm sure I have a ravenous press corps out there starving for information on what happened here. What's our official story?" She looked to Leo, but, for once, the chief of staff was at a loss. 

"I don't want to lie," Jed ground out as Abbey pulled another stitch. "We just won't let out the whole truth." 

"You want me to evade?" 

"Yeah. Give them the whole truth about what happened and just evade on my involvement. You can tell them that a Secret Service agent who had been helping Marcus Hughes stalk the First Lady let him on the property after I left with my agents this morning. He killed two agents and injured another." 

"Who survived?" Abbey asked with surprise. 

"Anita," Ron told her. "She was the one who let Max out of the barn." 

"Oh my God, Max!" Abbey cried. "He tried to stop Hughes from hurting me and the kids. The bastard shot him. Is he…," 

"Max is still alive." Ron gave a slight smile at being able to give her that piece of good news. "One of the marshals brought him to a local vet. I'll have the number for you." 

"The press corps knows that you are here, Mr. President," Leo said. "We can't hide that." 

"No, but they knew I was coming back here for the afternoon. They don't have to know that we knew what we were getting into. We'll just say that I came back here for lunch, and we surprised Hughes and my detail was able to take him down." 

"They know who he is," CJ stated quietly. "They're going to want to know if the First Lady…if she was…hurt." 

All eyes in the room moved expectantly to Abbey. She unconsciously pulled the jacket closer over the torn shards of her slip and she could see that her friends were holding their breath awaiting her response. 

"No. He hit me and he touched me," she gave an involuntary shudder. "But he didn't rape me again." She looked up at her husband with eyes shining with adoration. "Jed saw to that." 

"You broke his nose." Leo grinned with admiration. "He was a mess." 

"Well, I can't take credit for the nose," Jed told him. "Abbey Ali over here did that." 

Abbey flashed them a brash grin of pride at what she had done. 

"YOU broke his nose?" Millie asked incredulously. "Little Abbey Bartlet broke somebody's nose." 

"My wife happens to be one tough broad, Millie. You can be sure that I won't be pissing her off anywhere in the near future." 

"Can I get that in writing?" Abbey gave him a wry smile as she taped a bandage over the newly stitched knife wound. 

"There's somebody here who would like to see you," Ron's voice interrupted the teasing that was going on. 

Abbey turned to see whom he was talking about and saw him entering the room carrying her red-faced sniffling son. 

"NICKY!" she cried. She raced across the room and took the baby from Ron, pulling him in close to her chest. "Oh God, oh my baby." The emotions that she had been holding at bay suddenly overwhelmed her and she fell to her knees, still holding him tightly as if she would never let him go. She had come so close to losing him today. She could still feel the abject terror that had consumed her as she had watched Hughes with his hands around her child's fragile neck. She felt that frantic need to do whatever it took to keep him alive. She had very nearly given her body away to save his life; and despite what that would have done to her, she knew in heart that the sacrifice would have been worth it. She began to rock him back and forth as much for her own comfort as his, and the room soon filled with the sobs that she had been holding in. 

Uncomfortable with being privy to such personal emotion, the room soon cleared of everyone but Jed and the daughter he took from another agent into his good arm. He sank to his knees in front of his wife and wrapped his arms around. Together, they held their two children between them safe and sound. 

Jed's heart broke at what torture Hughes had put his wife through. He had seen his children's terror, seen the red marks on Nicky's neck, and watching Abbey's reaction to seeing their son only confirmed his suspicions. He knew that in due time Abbey would tell him what had happened this long morning. He just prayed that he would be able to keep his cool when she did. There was already a part of him that was wishing he gone ahead and killed Hughes, and he knew that hearing Abbey's story would only fuel that urge. He really hoped that he would not regret the moment he handed that knife to Ron and didn't kill the man who pledged to continue terrorizing his wife. Twice he'd had the chance to get him out of their lives, once and for all, and twice he'd been stopped. He hoped to God there would never be a third time. 


	19. Love and Rage

Abbey stood in the shower scrubbing at her delicate skin, trying desperately to wipe the last vestiges of Marcus Hughes from her body. She had been so busy caring for Jed and dealing with the whole press issue she hadn't had a chance to reflect on the nauseating and abhorrent things that had happened to her today. She had been sexually assaulted and very nearly raped again. She glanced down at the scratches on her breast and felt again the way that animal, fueled by his perverted sickening needs, had painfully and demandingly grabbed at her. She could still feel how his hand had moved between her legs to feel her up in front of her husband and Ron. Her eyes closed against that vivid memory and hot scalding tears of humiliation began to run down her cheeks. She began to scrub frantically between her legs trying to remove the dirtiness that his hand had tainted her with, as if she scrubbed hard enough, she could rid herself of his touch. 

"Abbey, you almost done, sweetheart?" Jed tried to keep the anguish he was feeling out of his tone. He knew exactly what his wife was doing in that shower. She'd been scrubbing away for well over a half-hour with a misguided need to cleanse herself. But, he knew that it would be just like it was before. No amount of soap and water would make her feel clean again. Only time and a lot of TLC could do that. He heard her shut off the water and opened a large fluffy towel to wrap her in. 

She opened the door and Jed could see that her skin was pink from all the hot water and scrubbing and her eyes were a bit swollen from crying. 

"Better?" he asked as he wrapped her small nude form in the towel. She gave him a wobbly smile and reached a hand up to gently stroke his worried brow. 

"That's the last shower that I'm going to take to rid myself of Marcus Hughes' touch," she informed him. "It's done now. It's over, and I'm not going to let him turn me into an emotional cripple. He loses, Jed." 

"Yes, he does," Jed stroked her arm. "You're much stronger than he gave your credit for." 

When Abbey stepped through the doorway to the bedroom and saw that Jed had set up the kids' playpen at the foot of their bed, she turned to give him a smile. 

"They can sleep in here in the playpen tonight," he told her. "I thought that might make you feel a little better, especially with Izzy in the hospital for observation." 

"It does make me feel better. Thank you." She held his hand for a long moment, then moved to watch the babies sleep for few moments. 

"OK Mrs. Bartlet," he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Time to get you in bed. You really should get some sleep." He handed her a pair of her silk pajamas. Abbey shook her head negatively and moved toward the pile of their discarded clothes from the night before that she had never gotten the chance to take care of. She picked up Jed's white button down dress shirt, slid it over her narrow shoulders, and began to button it. It still held the slight scent of his soap and his aftershave, along with the smell that was unmistakably Jed. 

"Abbey, that shirt's dirty." He held the bed covers aloft for her. 

"It makes me feel safe," she said as she slid under the covers. She knew that she would need all the armor she could get to combat the demons that would tear and claw at her in the night. Jed could see the apprehension in her eyes and knew that she feared sleep. 

"Millie left this for you," he handed her a pill. 

"I don't want to take a sleeping pill. What if the kids wake up?" 

"I'm not going anywhere, gorgeous. Besides, it's not a high dosage. It won't knock you out completely." 

"What about you?" She popped the pill into her mouth and took a swallow of water. "Do you need any painkillers for your arm?" 

"You can keep your Midol, Doc. My arm is just fine." 

"Midol." Abbey shook her head at her husband's humor. "Although that might not be a bad idea. It's a damn good pain reliever and I have some in the…" 

"Abbey," he hushed her by pressing his lips to her's. "Go to sleep, beautiful." He tucked her in as he would one of their children, then climbed in behind her and pulled her back tightly against his chest. He tucked her head under his chin and soothingly stroked her hair until the sleeping pill entered her bloodstream and her breathing become slow and steady. Abbey felt safe and comforted in his strong presence and soon felt herself begin to nod off. Before she fell asleep completely, there was something important she had to ask of her husband. 

"Jed," she murmured, more asleep than awake, "please don't leave me tonight." 

"Sssh… I'm not going anywhere, angelpuss. I'm going to hold you in my arms all night." 

"That sounds nice." Her head fell back against his chest as sleep finally overtook her. 

Up on one elbow, Jed continued to watch her and stroke her hair while she slept. His fingers gently touched the bruise on her jaw and grazed over the cut on her lip. His eyes fell to where his shirt gaped at her chest. The scratch marks marring the creamy skin of her breast were now a brownish yellow from the antiseptic she had dabbed on them earlier. She certainly had given the son of a bitch a hell of a fight. 

"Sweet dreams, my fierce little tigress," he whispered softly into her ear. "I love you." 

* * * * 

While his wife had the benefit of the sleeping pill, Jed did not sleep all night. His mind was a turmoil of hideous images and seething outrage. He replayed Abbey's rape trial over and over in his mind knowing that she was going to have to go through a similar humiliation now, because they had allowed Hughes to live to stand trial. This could even be quite possibly worse than the first trial. This time the whole world would be watching. It would be the lead in for every news program, the headline of every newspaper and the cover story of every magazine. He planned to ask Oliver if there was any way to protect his wife from that kind of degradation. If there was any way that Hughes could be convicted without Abbey's personal testimony. But, even though he was no lawyer, he knew that he was probably grasping at straws. When his anger and frustration threatened to take him over, Jed forced himself to relax. He laid back and listened to the comforting sounds of his wife and children breathing as they slept and thanked God for the hundredth time that day that they had all survived their ordeal. 

Then, as dawn approached, he found his promise to hold Abbey in his arms all night almost unbearable. The muscle relaxant had long since worn off and his arm now throbbed with pain. He gritted his teeth and tried to fight the white-hot pain that seemed to move from the base of his skull to his fingers, but it was a losing battle. Finally, knowing that she was drugged to sleep, he disentangled himself from Abbey's body and made his way to the bathroom to dig through the medicine cabinet. He passed by the bottle of Midol with a soft chuckle and found the giant tub of Advil. He popped the recommended dosage with an extra pill for good measure and then made his way back to the bedroom. 

He stood by the playpen staring down at the sleeping, vulnerable forms of his young children. He smiled as he heard the slurping noises of Nicholas sucking his thumb and Aislinn's soft whimpers of frustration when she rolled to the wall of the playpen and couldn't go any further. They were so little, so innocent. How could they understand the evil that had touched their young lives today? How close they had come to being killed, merely because they were his children. How could they know what their mother had gone through for them today? Hell, he didn't even know the whole story. He ran his finger lightly over the red bruise on his son's neck and swallowed convulsively. 

Abbey awakened slightly disoriented. Her eyelids were heavy and she felt almost hung over. That was when she remembered that she had gone to sleep drugged. She panicked for a moment when she realized that Jed's arms were no longer around her and he wasn't in their bed. She sat up, her eyes squinting in the gray dawn light, and she saw him sitting silently at the foot of their bed hunched over the playpen in silent protection. She watched him reach out a finger to run over the bruise on Nicky's neck as she crawled over the bed on her knees and placed her hands on his shoulders. 

"We almost lost them today," she said softly against his neck. Jed gave a slight start, then turned his tormented blue eyes on her. 

"I need to know what happened to you all," he stated painfully. "Can you tell me?" 

Abbey's green gaze locked with his blue one and she reached a hand out to squeeze his. She knew it had to be now. They needed to get past this in order to move forward, and only when he knew everything would they be able to do so. 

"OK, let's talk." 

* * * * 

Telling Jed about her ordeal was going to be more difficult than Abbey thought. Every time she started to tell him what had happened, she saw the pain and compassion in his eyes and it caused her to choke up. It wasn't any easier for Jed to watch her struggling to keep her composure while she talked to him. 

"It's OK, babe. Take your time," he touched her cheek. 

"See, when you say things like that, it just get my water works started up again." She tried to smile, but it was half-hearted at best. 

Finally, she found a position where she could speak without seeing how what she was saying affected her husband, and yet, she could still be comforted. Jed was leaning back against the headboard of the bed and she lay horizontally across it with her head on his lap facing away from him. As she began to speak, Jed started to smooth her hair back from her face, offering a measure of contact and comfort. 

"After you left, I finished giving the kids their breakfast; and then Izzy and I bathed them and got them dressed. After they were all set, I went to our bedroom and started to straighten up. I was changing the stained bedding from the night before when I heard his voice. He was standing in the doorway." 

Abbey stopped for a moment as she re-lived the horror of that moment. 

"It's OK, Abs," Jed gently soothed. 

Abbey drew in a shuddering breath and continued on. 

"He told me not to bother calling my agents because they were dead. That was when I knew I was in real trouble. The agents were dead, Max was outside and you were gone." Abbey felt his hand tighten reflexively in her hair, then gently release. "I knew it would be up to me to get myself and the children away from him. His fury was so cold and so bitter. He tried telling me that I wanted it when he fucked me in Boston." 

Jed winced at the term but forced himself to swallow his anger and continue to softly stroke her hair. He knew she had to get this all out and she couldn't do that if he reacted with rage to everything she said. 

"At least he stopped referring to it as making love," her tone dripped with bitterness. "He said I was going to be all his and that I would NEVER be yours again. That was when he grabbed my breast and did this." She traced her fingers lightly over the scratch marks. "He told me that I would be his, or I would be nobody's. I tried to reason with him, but he was beyond reasoning with. He slapped me hard across the face and I fell to the floor." 

"Oh Christ," Jed swore. His fingers moved from her hair to caress her bruised jaw. 

"Actually, that ended up being a good thing." She reached her hand up to touch his. "When he came toward me, I was able to take him by surprise and I kneed him in the balls as hard as I could. I got away from him and ran to the nursery. I saw the dead agent outside the room and I knew for sure that I was the only one who could protect the babies. All I wanted was to get them out of there, but when I opened the door to leave, Hughes was standing there with a knife. 

She took a deep shaky breath and rubbed her cheek against Jed's stomach. He was silent, waiting patiently for her to go on. 

"He hated our kids, Jed. He hated that I was trying to protect YOUR babies. He ripped Nicholas right out of my arms. God, I can still see him crying and reaching out to me, and there was NOTHING I could do to protect him. In Hughes' warped mind, I belonged to him and by creating Nicholas and Aislinn with you, he had proof that I had cheated on him. God, did he hate you. He smashed his fist into the picture of you and Nicky that hung on the wall behind the changing table. The kids were so scared. Both of them were screaming in terror. I begged Hughes not to hurt Nicky. I BEGGED him." 

Jed's calming fingers felt the wet tears on Abbey's cheek and began to smooth them away. 

"He LOVED that I was begging him. It turned him on. He put his hands around Nicky's throat and threatened to snap his neck." 

Abbey choked back a sob and Jed's eyes closed against the tears of impotent fury that flooded him at the image his wife had presented him with. The thought of his small fragile baby son's neck in that monster's hand caused the bile to rise in his throat. 

"I was so terrified, Jed. You can't know how afraid I was that he was going to kill Nicholas right in front of me. I begged him again. I told him I would do whatever he wanted if he would just leave Nicky alone. I was prepared to do it, Jed…" 

She turned her head to look back at her husband. She had to see if there was disgust or betrayal flashing in his eyes. She was startled to see that his jaw was clenched tightly and tears were streaming slowly from the corners of his closed eyes. 

"Jed…It's OK, Jed." She slowly crawled up his body and he unconsciously wrapped her in his arms pulling her head under his chin. 

"I'm so sorry, Abbey," he groaned against the top of her head. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that." 

"My promise to do anything he wanted if he would leave Nicholas alone seemed to turn him on even more. He pulled me to him and he was…hard." She swallowed and her voice got shakier, "I think he would have taken me right there on the nursery floor in front of the kids if Max hadn't come in. I've never seen Max vicious the way he was. He was not going to let Hughes hurt the kids or me. He scared Hughes so much he practically threw Nicky at me and told me to call Max off. I tried to call him off so he wouldn't get hurt, but he wouldn't listen to me. It was like he knew Hughes meant to harm us. He lunged forward going for Hughes' throat and the son of a bitch shot him. He fell whimpering and bleeding at my feet. If it hadn't been for the kids, I think I might have given up right then. When Hughes shot Max, so cold blooded, I knew that the only way that I was going to survive and have a chance to protect the kids was by doing exactly what he wanted." 

"Why…why didn't he," Jed struggled to get the words out, "…try anything right there. Why did he take you back to the bedroom?" 

"Because he could tell from the state of the room and the sheets that we had made love the night before. That infuriated him. He decided that he wanted to take me exactly where you had taken me the night before, so he could cover your scent with his." 

"Christ, that's SICK. He's like some kind of fucking animal." 

"He IS an animal, Jed. I didn't know how the hell I was going stand what he was going to do to me, but I couldn't let him kill our child." 

She looked up at her husband with eyes pleading for understanding. 

"It's OK, baby…It's OK," he murmured into her hair. 

"Is it? Is it really OK? I kept wondering about how you were going to react. If there was any way that you could understand." 

"Of course, I understand. Jesus, Abbey, you were put in an impossible situation and you dealt with it bravely and courageously. You didn't fall apart. You did what had to be done. You saved our children. Understand? My God, babe, I am so damn PROUD of you. The way you broke that bastard's nose…" 

Abbey turned her face, burying it into his neck as if she were trying to crawl into him and he felt her begin to shake as she finally released the tears that she had been holding in. 

"I'm just so sorry this happened. I promised you I wouldn't let him hurt you and I let you down. I'm so sorry I let you down." 

"Let me down?" she asked with astonishment and tilted her tear streaked face to look up at him. "You kept him from raping me, Jed. You SAVED my LIFE. When I think of where that knife could have stabbed you…He could have KILLED you, Jed…Oh God what were you thinking?" The tears continued unabated. 

"It was pure instinct, Abbey. I saw the knife and I just knew that I would die if anything happened to my gal." He smiled and ran his thumbs under her eyes letting the tears spill over them. 

"Your gal?" she smirked. "There you go again. How can you always make me smile when it hurts so bad?" 

"It's a gift," he grinned. 

"God, I wish I could just stay here forever," she nuzzled into him wrapping her knee up over his thighs. 

"In Maryland?" he teased. 

"Don't be obtuse – in your arms. I want to feel safe like this forever. Sometimes it feels like we live in this magical cocoon, and as long as we're together nothing bad can happen to us. You're my safe harbor, Jed. You always have been." 

"And you are mine, Abbey. I never feel quite as safe and content as I do when I'm moored safely inside you. 

Abbey smiled up at him. Jed was making sexy jokes again. All was well. 

* * * * 

Abbey awoke a few hours later to a bright sun filled room. She squinted at the clock and gave a start when she saw that it was after nine. She NEVER slept until after nine, at least she hadn't since the twins were born. She glanced quickly down to see that the playpen was empty. She would have been nervous if it hadn't been for the scent of coffee and bacon wafting in the air. She belted her silk robe and headed down to the kitchen where, sure enough, she found Jed much as she had yesterday morning – in jeans and a sweatshirt cooking breakfast. The frilly apron he wore around his waist was at odds with his very masculine appearance. He hadn't shaved yet, his hair wasn't combed into place, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal forearms sprinkled with bronze hair. He was humming along to an oldies station on the radio while he cooked. She was surprised and pleased to see that Nicholas and Aislinn were both clean and dressed and seated in their high chairs drinking contentedly from the bottles their father had made them. Abbey smiled wistfully when she saw that Jed had made it a point to dress their son in a turtleneck, so his bruised neck would be hidden and she wouldn't have any morning reminders. There was a sweetness and thoughtfulness in her husband that she saw very rarely in people. 

"Ma…ma," Nicky smiled and threw his bottle down as he saw his mother enter the room. 

"Hello, little puddin'pie." She kissed his chubby little cheek, praising God yet again, that she was able to do so. She picked his bottle up and placed it back on the tray. 

"Ma..." Aislinn slammed her bottle down on her tray wanting her share of their mother's attention. 

"I didn't forget you, sugar n' spice." She leaned down to kiss her daughter's silky curls. 

"Good morning, Mama." Jed grinned at her and handed her a steaming mug of coffee. 

"Thank you." She cupped the mug with both hands and inhaled deeply. "The elixir of the Gods." 

"I believe that was ambrosia." 

"The books have it all wrong." She lifted her lips to accept his good morning kiss and rubbed her cheek lightly against the rough stubble of his jaw. "It had to be coffee." She sipped the hot coffee and smiled. Just the way she liked it – cream, no sugar. 

"Did you get any sleep at all last night?" she asked with a yawn. 

"Not really," he admitted. "I just couldn't. Between you and the kids and my own wandering mind…" 

"And the pain in your arm." 

"I took some Advil a little while ago and it isn't so bad." 

"Well, I want to check it after breakfast." 

"Like I'm surprised about that," he said sarcastically. 

"Do you always have to be such a horrible patient?" 

"You wouldn't know what to do with me if I wasn't." He placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. 

"You're right. I wouldn't." Abbey broke one piece of toast into smaller pieces and gave one to each of the kids to gnaw on. "I'd like to go see Max at the veterinary clinic today. Can you clear it with the agents?" 

"You bet." He had just taken a mouthful of eggs when there was a knock on the door and Ron poked his head in. 

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. President… ma'am." 

"What's up, Ron?" Jed asked. 

"I thought you would want to know. I just got a report that Marcus Hughes killed himself in his prison cell. He sliced his wrists with a shank." 

Abbey's first emotion was one of relief. He was dead this time. He would NEVER be able to come back to haunt her again. She wouldn't have to bear witness at his trial… At that thought, a shiver of alarm moved up her spine and she turned to look at her husband. The man that she thought she knew better than he knew himself. Could he…Did he…. 

"My God, Jed," she breathed. "Did you have him killed?" 


	20. Love and Rage

"Are you asking me if I put a hit out on that son of a bitch?" Jed was surprised by his wife's immediate assumption. 

"Jed, you were so angry. You wanted to kill him." 

"Yes, I did. I even regretted not killing him. I could have done it, Abbey. I've known since that night in Boston that I have it in me to do that. But, if I were going to kill him, I would have done it right here with my own bare hands. I wouldn't make others do my dirty work." He turned to Ron who was now standing in the kitchen. "How exactly did this happen?" 

"Somehow, he got hold of a shank and sliced his wrists. By the time the guards found him, he had bled to death." 

Abbey sat down at the table, her legs having suddenly gone weak with relief. It was over. It was finally completely over. Marcus Hughes would never send her another creepy, demanding love note. He would never give her another chilling phone call. She would never spend another night wondering if he was going to try to get to her through her children. He would never touch her or her children or her husband EVER again. He no longer existed. That was going to take some getting used to. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, a part of her still unable to believe that the nightmare was really over. There would be no trial. No humiliating explanations of what Marcus Hughes had done to her. No defense lawyer trying to say that she wanted his attention. It was truly over. 

While relief was the emotion that overwhelmed his wife, it was suspicion that overwhelmed Jed. He'd heard from other agents that Hughes had threatened to commit suicide and yet there obviously hadn't been any suicide watch on him. He was the perpetrator of the murders of two Secret Service agents and a sexual assault against the First Lady and yet, somehow, somebody had gotten a shank in to him? Knowing how heavily guarded Hughes would have been that simply didn't make any sense. Things were just not adding up. Before he could question Ron any further, the jarring ring of the phone pierced the silence. 

"I'll get it." Abbey stood and headed to the living room for the phone. She had been fielding calls from her family all morning. The break-in at Harmony Point had been all over the news. She and Jed had tried to get in touch with their immediate family members last night to warn them of what they would be seeing on the news and to alleviate any fears that Abbey or the twins had been hurt. Unfortunately, they hadn't been able to reach everyone. 

"Hello," she answered. 

"Mom, what is going on down there? Every channel is covering the fact that your agents were killed and you were attacked by Marcus Hughes." It was Elizabeth and she sounded very upset. 

"Didn't Doug tell you that I called last night to give you a heads up and to let you know that I'm OK?" 

"Yes, but I tried calling you all night after I got home and I didn't get an answer. I started to get worried that it was more than the press was reporting." 

"That was your father. He took the phone off the hook so that I wouldn't be disturbed. I'm sorry if that worried you." 

"Mama, are you REALLY Ok?" Abbey could hear the tears in her eldest daughter's voice. "I watched CJ's statement and she said that you weren't hurt, but I know that probably isn't the whole truth." 

"Not the whole truth, no," Abbey admitted. 

"He was there to…to…" Liz just could not bring herself to use the word, "to do it again, wasn't he?" 

"Yes. That was his intention but…" 

"Mama, are you hiding anything from the press… did he hurt you?" 

Abbey teared up at the concern and pain in Elizabeth's voice. The love she received from all these beautiful daughters that she and Jed had created could, at times, humble her and almost bring her to her knees. All had been ready to come rallying to her side at the drop of a hat. "Not in the way you're asking. He hit me a couple times and made some threats, but your father and his agents got here before he could make good on those threats. I'm fine, Lizzykins, really." 

Jed listened from the kitchen to make sure that Abbey was deep in conversation then turned to Ron. 

"What's the real story, Ron? Did Hughes really kill himself or did somebody order this?" 

"He really killed himself." 

"I heard that he threatened suicide. Why wasn't he on a suicide watch?" 

"That was my call. I thought it was a ploy. He knows exactly what happens to rapists when they get into prison. He wanted solitary. I wasn't going to give that to him." Ron's usual calm, professional tone took on a bitterness that Jed had never heard before. 

"So you're saying that neither you nor any other Secret Service agent had anything to do with the death of Marcus Hughes?" 

"I wouldn't say that, no." Ron looked at his boss. He owed this man the truth. Jed Bartlet had foregone powerful analgesics and hospital medical care in order to keep him from losing his job. "We may not have killed him, but we certainly helped him do it to himself." 

Ron thought back for a moment at the guilt that he had felt after the attack. He had failed in this situation on so many fronts. His first mistake had been the blinders that he had worn from the start. He hadn't even begun suspecting his staff until it was much too late. The fact that he hadn't probed this area of the investigation earlier had contributed to Lori's being able to help Hughes get into the house and get at the First Lady and her children. Had he looked to his colleagues sooner, he might have spared Mrs. Bartlet the pain and humiliation of what she had gone through yesterday. 

Right from the start, Abigail Bartlet had been so afraid that Hughes would get to her, yet all the men surrounding her, including him, had promised that he would not – that they would not let him. Despite her fear, she had dealt with everything with such courage and dignity. Never in his entire career had he felt such an incredible sense of impotence as he had watching Marcus Hughes putting his hands all over the First Lady and watching her distress over it. Had it not been for little Nicholas Bartlet's cry for his mother over the baby monitor, he would have had to stand there doing nothing while the First Lady was orally sodomized and most probably raped right in front of him and her husband. 

Speaking of that husband, he knew that he was breaking every rule in the book by allowing the President into such an explosive situation, but he had allowed his emotions to rule over his intellect. He had gotten to know the President exceedingly well in the days since Rosslyn. This had especially been the case during the past few months while his wife had been stalked. He had gotten to know him as a loving, worried, and frustrated husband and father. And Mrs. Bartlet, well, he had gotten to know her pretty well in those self-defense classes he had given her. Suddenly, she was more than just the lovely wife of the President. He'd gotten to know her as a real person. Gotten to see her humor, her spirit, her courage and even her frailty when everything just became too much and she broke down in her husband's arms. 

Until recently, there had always been a bit of a wall between him and the first couple. That was the way that it was supposed to be. He was, basically, their bodyguard and he always tried to be as unobtrusive in that role as possible. Because of this, he had seen and heard a lot of things he was sure the two would be embarrassed about if they knew. But, he'd also watched them as a family. He'd seen the President laugh and tease his elder daughters and the First Lady lovingly nurse their two newest. He'd watch them both playing on their hands and knees with the twins and the joy the President took at having his whole brood around him at holiday dinners. He had even held the President's son in his arms while the man beamed at him with undisguised pride. Never, in all his years as an agent, had he felt such an emotional commitment to the people he was trained to protect. That was not exactly a good thing. In his business, emotions were a dangerous thing to have. In fact, allowing yourself to be ruled by your emotions in this business could be very deadly indeed. 

Never had that been more the case then yesterday when he allowed the President to enter the house. He knew exactly how strongly the President felt about his wife, and in conjunction with that, just how filled with fury he was with Marcus Hughes. It was a lethal combination that had almost culminated in his death. Had the knife struck his heart rather than his arm the President's body might be lying in state right at this moment. 

Still, Ron couldn't help but feel an amazing respect for the man's courage. Without any thought to his own safety or for his own life, Jed Bartlet had jumped in front of a knife meant for his wife. That one action told Ron more about what kind of man the President was than anything else he had witnessed. The bravery and the sheer depth of the President's love for his wife had been a sight to behold and one that Ron would never forget. 

Yet, he knew the outcome would have been different if he had kept the President outside. He probably would have had a sniper take Hughes out and that scum would have been dealt with once and for all. Because he hadn't done that, the First Lady was going to have to go through a huge media circus of a trial. She would have to re-live not only her first rape trial, but also what had just happened to her here in Maryland. He'd read the transcripts of her trial in Boston and it filled him with guilt to think that because of him, she was going to have to go through that type of degradation again. He found out very quickly that he wasn't the only one who felt that way when he overheard a conversation between Leo McGarry and the President not long after the First Lady had stitched him up. 

"Did he rape her, Jed?" Leo asked tightly. The question was friend to friend not chief of staff to President. 

"No, but he damn near did. I got his knife, Leo. I had it held right to his jugular. I wanted to kill him for what he did to her, not just this time, but for before in Boston. A part of me wanted to watch him die." 

Leo stood staring at his best friend. This was a side to Jed that he had never really seen before, at least not since Abbey had been attacked the first time. "What stopped you?" 

"Abbey. She brought me to my senses. But, I still can't help wishing that he were dead. When I think about what Eliot Roush did to her on that witness stand and I think about her having to go through all of that again, it KILLS me. She doesn't deserve that, Leo. God, I'd do anything to keep her from having to go through all that again." 

"Maybe we can." 

"What?" 

"Maybe we can keep her from going through all that again. I'm sure there are ways to have this taken care of." 

Jed looked at his friend in shock. It took a moment to register that Leo had just suggested putting a "hit" on a man. For one brief, insane moment, he almost jumped at the idea. Taking Hughes out would solve all their problems. But a "hit"? That was so cold blooded. It was murder. He knew that he could have eased his conscience if he had killed Marcus when he had the chance with the assertion that he was protecting and defending his wife. But, if he did it now, he would simply be a murderer. 

"I'm not the Godfather, Leo. I can't order a hit." 

Leo stared at him for a long moment. He'd wanted so badly to say, "I can", but he was afraid that Jed would see the hidden meaning in those words. That he might somehow see just how he felt about Abbey. "You're right. Stuff like this can come back to haunt you. If it ever got out, we'd be finished." 

This time it was Jed's turn to look hard and long at his friend. Leo hadn't gotten it at all. He had been speaking of moral values when he said he couldn't do it. For Leo it was simply the fear of being caught. Well, Leo had never lived in the world of moral absolutes that he lived in. Jed knew that very well about him and accepted it. 

That conversation had gotten Ron thinking about a way to make Hughes disappear without the President's involvement. The easiest way to do that seemed to simply let him do exactly what he threatened to do. He had not put Hughes on suicide watch. Instead, he had sat with the rapist for an hour almost goading him to do it. 

"We'll be seeking the death penalty, of course," Ron informed him. 

Despite his puffy, swollen face and the black eyes, Hughes still held an air of defiance. "The President is against the death penalty," he stated smugly. "It won't look so good for him politically if he suddenly changes his mind because his wife was attacked." 

"It won't be for the assault on the First Lady. It will be for two counts of first-degree murder for the two agents that you killed. We'll tack on two attempted murders, assault, and attempted sexual assault, as well." 

"Don't you mean three attempted murders? After all I did stab the President of the United States." Marcus gave a self-satisfied smile at the memory of sending that blade into the President's flesh. "No, I don't think you'll bring that up, will you? I think you better start thinking in terms of a deal, because if I speak out the whole world will know all about the President's involvement. I think that we can come up with some mutually beneficial deal – a deal where I'm able to get parole. Then, when I get out, I WILL take Abigail away with me and make her mine again." 

"She was NEVER yours, you sick little pervert," Ron spat. "She HATED everything about you. She hated you so much; she took classes from me to keep you from being able to paw at her again. The thought of your touch made her SICK. She broke your fucking nose. What more evidence do you need?" 

"Once I get her away from HIM, she'll change her tune," Hughes seethed. "You don't know anything about me and Abigail." 

"I know that there is no YOU and Abigail. I know that you'll never get her away from her husband. In fact, when I left the farmhouse, she was wrapped pretty tightly in his arms." Ron had the pleasure of seeing Hughes face flush red with anger. "What you need to know is that I don't give a damn about my job at this point. If it means getting you to fry, I will happily add attempting to kill the President of the United States to your list of crimes. And, until you do fry, your life here is going to be a living hell. I think you already know what they do to rapists in prison." 

Hughes glared at Ron. Yes, he did know, and it was one reason he had vowed not to be taken alive. 

"Well, I think we'll pass the word along that not only did you attempt to rape the First Lady, you hurt and threatened to kill her innocent baby. Hurting kids doesn't really go over all that well in prison, does it? I think you are going to be having some real problems quite soon." He stood as if to leave. 

"You can't just go," Hughes said with an edge of fear now in his voice. "I need protection." 

"You should have thought of that before you killed and injured four of my agents." Ron icily stared the other man down. "You should have thought of that before you put your filthy hands around Nicholas Bartlet's tiny neck. You should have thought of that before you grabbed the First Lady between her legs in front of her husband and me. AND, you should have thought of that before you stabbed the President of the United States on MY watch." 

Ron turned to leave, ready to hand Hughes over to the wolves. As he approached the door, he saw Tim Carruthers, a man who had been on Abbey's detail from day one, slyly drop a shank on the floor near the corner. Ron felt a moment of shock. This was more than giving Hughes over to the wolves. This was giving the man a way to kill himself. Tim caught Ron's eye and faced him with a steady gaze. He had no way of knowing just how his boss was going to react to this blatant violation of ethics. He was rewarded after a long silent moment with a mere nod of the head and the two exited the room. 

* * * * 

Jed didn't know what to say. He knew all about guilt and how it could eat at you. Now this man, whose job it was to protect him and his family, was standing before him telling him to what lengths he had gone in order to do just that. He was very moved by how deeply Ron cared for his family. 

Ron waited for an outburst of anger, for the President to remark upon his stupidity and unprofessionalism. He didn't receive anything near the tongue-lashing that he thought he would get. Instead, Jed Bartlet rose from his chair and approached him with an outstretched hand. 

"Thank you, Ron." He shook his hand tightly. "And thank this agent Carruthers for me." 

Ron simply nodded, then turned to see the First Lady standing in the doorway. From the look on her face and the tears shimmering in her eyes, it was apparent that she had been there for a while and heard everything. The room went silent as Abbey approached the tall agent. Ron stared down at the petite, pretty woman standing before him and his eyes widened with surprise as she went up on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his cheek. 

"Yes, thank you, Ron." She smiled sweetly at the blush that stained the usually unflappable agent's face. 

"Y…you're welcome," he stuttered. "You're both welcome." 

* * * * 

"Hello, Mr. President, Mrs. Bartlet." The young veterinarian was more than a little in awe at having the first couple arrive to visit her star patient. Reporters had been inundating the small clinic for updates on the German Shepherd's prognosis since the night before. 

"How is Max doing today?" Abbey asked. 

"Much better. He came through the surgery fine and he even ate a little this morning. I understand he is a Secret Service dog. Will he be going home with you or back with the Service?" 

"He's not a Service dog anymore, "Abbey said firmly. She and Jed had not talked about this, but she was not going to back down. Max was staying. "He's family." 

"Yeah," Jed agreed. "Max is officially retired from the Service and is going to live a life of leisure as the First Dog." 

"The only thing he'll have to worry about in the future is keeping his tail from being pulled by two rambunctious toddlers," Abbey smiled. 

"Would you like to go see him?" the vet asked. 

"Yes," they both answered. 

The young woman led them through a door into a small ICU unit where Max lay restrained on a table. He still had an IV attached giving him fluids, but when he saw Abbey and Jed, he began to whine and his tail wagged excitedly. 

"Maxy," Abbey's voice broke as she knelt by the big dog's side. "You brave, foolish dog." She buried her face in his soft fur and began to pet him gently. Max continued to whine and try to lick at her face. 

"Hey, buddy." Jed placed one hand on Abbey's shoulder and the other on the dog's head to scratch behind his ear. Max looked up at him and turned to give his hand a lick. Jed squatted by his head continuing to scratch behind his ear. "I owe you a really big one, Maximilian. You saved my wife and my kids, buddy. You bought us time. When you come home, there is a big juicy steak with your name on it. You're never going to want for anything, EVER." 

Abbey clung to the dog patting and soothing him. She couldn't help but recall the relief she had felt when she had seen him in the doorway and how brave Max had been taking on Hughes. Had it not been for Max, God only knew what would have happened in that nursery. "Maxy, you sweet, sweet, boy. You're going to get better and then you're going to come home with us. What do you think of that? You want to live with us forever?" The dog stopped whining and closed his eyes contented to be safe in his mistress' arm. 

"I guess we'll take that for a yes," Jed grinned. 

* * * * 

"Well, look who we have here. It's the three amigos." Jed looked from the three senior staffers at his door back to where his wife was eating her dinner. 

"Let them in, Jed," Abbey said patiently. 

Jed opened the door to admit them, but they could tell that he was not pleased. He had not wanted to be disturbed this weekend. "Now what was so urgent that all of you had to drive all the way out here personally?" 

CJ, Leo and Josh entered the kitchen looking slightly uncomfortable at having interrupted the family meal. Abbey still sat at the kitchen table in between the two high chairs. She spooned food into the twins' mouths in between bites of her own and the President's meal sat on the table only half finished. "Well, don't everyone speak at once," he said sarcastically. 

The three senior staff members eyed each other expectantly, each wanting the other to address the issue. 

"Guys, my supper is getting cold." 

"Mr. President," Leo began hesitantly. "There have been some developments in the press. We need to talk." 


	21. Love and Rage

Jed's head turned quickly to face the anxious eyes of his wife. He couldn't believe that the press had already gotten wind of what Ron had told the two of them earlier. Still, he tried to appear nonchalant. "Sit down," he motioned them toward the table. 

"You finish eating, Mr. President. We can wait in the living room until you're done," Leo said. 

"I think you've sufficiently killed my appetite," Jed groused. "What about you, Abbey?" 

Abbey nodded to him, emphasizing the point by pushing her plate away. "Sit down," Abbey urged them. She pushed the high chairs to one side, filled the babies' trays with finger food, and handed them each a bottle. "That should keep them quiet for a while." With her children taken care of, she turned to the staffers with hands on her hips. "Spill it, guys." 

Josh and Leo gave each other uneasy glances then turned to stare at CJ expectantly. Neither man particularly wanted to be a part of this conversation. If they'd had their way, CJ would be speaking to the first couple by herself. They had not gotten their way. CJ had insisted on back up and so here they were. 

"Ma'am." CJ sat next to Abbey and turned her chair so that she could look her in the eye. "This is very uncomfortable for me, for all of us." 

"Just say what you need to say. I'm not going to fall apart." 

CJ gave her friend a half smile in complete admiration of her strength. However, despite the straightforward words, she could see the tension in Abbey's eyes and the anxiousness in the way she nervously twisted her wedding ring back and forth. CJ startled herself by unconsciously reaching out a hand to take the First Lady's to offer support and comfort. Leo and Josh began to shuffle uncomfortably at this bonding of the sisterhood. Neither were comfortable with what they felt should be a strictly woman to woman conversation. 

Abbey's eyes lifted to the men. "Would you two please sit down? You're making me nervous with all that dancing around." 

The men sat and CJ continued, "I've been informed that there are tabloids that are going to be headlining stories that you were actually raped yesterday and we are covering that up." 

Jed's face went red with anger and Abbey could see he was about to blow his stack. 

"Jed…" She placed a soft hand on his forearm to keep him under control. "CJ, you know there is nothing that we can do to stop the tabloid press from publishing lies about us." 

"I know that. But those little rumor rumblings have gotten the legitimate press wondering. They want to know why they haven't seen you speak about the incident. They feel that you're hiding out here. They want to know if we are covering something up." 

"Two of my agents were KILLED yesterday, my dog was shot, my one year old son was strangled in front of me, and I was nearly raped in front of my husband and Ron Butterfield. Don't I deserve just ONE goddamned MINUTE to process all of this? Can't I have just a couple of days of privacy?" 

"Of course you deserve that, Abbey," CJ said sympathetically. "But this isn't about what you deserve. It's all about perception. If you don't speak, the perception is that you have something to hide." 

"What do you want from me?" Abbey rubbed at her temples, wearily trying to rid herself of the stress headache she felt coming on. 

"We'd like you to give an interview. Just something low-key and sympathetic. We're thinking of one of the morning shows. We owe Katie Couric an interview." 

"No," Jed's emphatic denial caused the room to go silent. 

"We need to stop the rumors before they get out of control," Josh said. "We owe…" 

"She doesn't OWE anyone a fucking thing. If anyone is owed anything, it is HER. We owe her this time to heal and to…" 

"Jed," Abbey turned to him, "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm sitting right here. I can speak for myself." She turned to the three senior staffers, "I knew I would have to rehash all of this in the press. I just didn't think that it would be so soon." 

"We can set it up for tomorrow morning and get it over with," CJ told her. 

Abbey's fingers involuntarily moved to the bruise on her jaw. When she did so, her shirt slipped down her arm to reveal the yellowish-purple finger marks that marred the pale skin of her delicate wrist. Leo swallowed tightly and looked down at the ground, unable to bear looking at the damage done to her and imagining how it had been done. 

"Couldn't I wait until my face is healed? I don't want everyone to see what he did to me." The tears pooled in Abbey's eyes and she brushed at them impatiently. She hated crying in front of others. 

"Of course you can." Jed took her hand. His fingers began to gently stroke her injured wrist and he glared at his staff. He was infuriated that they were putting Abbey through this, even under the guise of doing their jobs. 

"We could wait," CJ agreed gently. "But if we wait, then everything we do will be in response to allegations. If we are proactive and you get right out there and give your side of the story, we have something to fall back on when the lies start. Besides, if they see what he did, they'll know exactly why you wanted some time alone with your family and that you are being honest when you say that he hurt you but didn't rape you." 

Abbey sat quietly for a few moments processing everything that had been said. Her gaze moved from the children, to the staffers and finally to Jed. By the time she reached him, he saw the quiet acceptance in their lovely depths. 

"I'll do it tomorrow morning," she promised. "But there are some things that he did to me and wanted to do to me that I am not going to talk about. I think that I deserve some modicum of privacy." 

"You don't have to talk about any specifics," Leo told her quickly. He for one did not want to know. "That's fine." 

"And I'm going to sit with her when she does this," Jed informed them. 

"Jed, you don't have to do that." Abbey turned to him. "I'll be fine, really." 

"Abbey, I want to be there with you when you do this. You were there for me when I had the MS interview; it's my turn to be there for you. Do you guys have a problem with that?" He turned to them just daring them to disagree. 

"I think it's a good idea," CJ nodded. 

"Then it's agreed," Leo said. "Let's get down to work." 

* * * * 

Jed gave a sidelong glance at his wife with a slight frown. This had been the third time during the Mass that he'd had to nudge her to stand or kneel. Following the literal ups and downs of a Mass had been something that both had done since childhood and was as automatic as genuflecting when going by a hearse to them. Sometimes his mind wandered and Abbey had to reel him in to make sure that he was focusing and following the Mass, but she very rarely strayed. From the look in her eyes, he knew that her mind was on something else entirely. 

Abbey kneeled against the pew in front of her. A communion wafer was dissolving on her tongue making her feel like a total hypocrite. She had just accepted the body of Christ and yet, deep inside, she felt like a sinner. Thou Shall Not Kill. Well, that was the biggie as far as commandments went, and while she hadn't actually killed anyone, she had been completely relieved that a man was dead. Not only that, she had praised and given a kiss to the person responsible for that death. To make matters even worse, she was still glad they had done it. She was a physician, a healer and yet in this instance, she had wanted somebody dead. 

"Jed," she grabbed his arm as he began to leave the pew and whispered in his ear. "I want to go to confession before we leave." 

"Abbey, you don't have anything to…" 

"I need to do this, Jed. It will take a weight off my chest. Please." 

"OK," he glanced to the confessionals. "But don't take too long, we have that interview in a half hour." 

"Just how many sins do you think I have?" Her eyes narrowed. 

"Honey, how many times have I told you that you have a body made for sin?" 

"Jed, we're in church have a little respect." 

"Hey, God knows exactly how he made you and I tip my hat to him and say thank you everyday." 

"You're incorrigible." 

"That's why you love me." 

"Jackass," she shook her head. 

"Add that one to your list of sins, sugarpie. You're supposed to show me respect as the head of our house." 

"Jed, shut up before you dig yourself deeper into a hole." She squeezed his arm gently, knowing that he had been trying to lighten the heavy mood she had been in, and turned to enter the confessional. Jed strode forward to talk to the priest and see if someone was available to listen to Abbey's confession, as there were set times for that sacrament and this was not one of them. 

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," Abbey began. "It's been three weeks since my last confession. Since then, I've had some very impure thoughts. I wanted a man dead and felt relief and praise when he was killed…" 

* * * * __

"O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and I detest all my sins, because of your just punishments, but most of all because they offend you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of your grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen." 

Abbey finished her Act of Contrition and felt the weight of her burden lifted from her. She had confessed how she had felt, received counsel, and asked for forgiveness. Now she could move forward without all the horrible guilt. 

She stepped out of the confessional and Jed could see just by her posture and the look in her eyes that she was ready to put all of this behind her and get on with her life. 

"Better?" he asked. 

"Much." 

"How many 'Hail, Mary's' did you get for the jackass remark?" he grinned. 

"Not a one," she grinned back. "When I told Father McLaughlin who I was referring to when I said that, he felt the comment was completely justified and said that being married to you was all the penance that I needed." 

"Smart ass." He pinched her rear and she laughed. Still, as they excited the church, Abbey slid her arm through Jed's and leaned up close to him knowing that she needed his strength and support as the reporters snapped photos and shouted out questions that they left unanswered. Penance was not exactly the word she would use to describe her marriage to Jed, but it was always nice to keep him on his toes. 

* * * * 

After the interview with Katie Couric, which had been done at a small local TV studio, CJ went back to DC, while Abbey and Jed returned to Harmony Point. Talking about the incident had been emotionally cathartic for Abbey and now that it was over, she would not need to speak about it at length again. Despite that relief, it had been draining to discuss something raw in a calm and rational manner when it was still so new and raw. Thankfully, she'd had Jed's hand to squeeze anytime she felt her emotions begin to take over. Yet, even with his support, she hadn't been able to hide the sheen of tears from the nation as she spoke of her child being threatened. Even the most hard-hearted, right wing Bartlet hater had to be moved by the First Lady's words and the non-verbal, yet obvious, emotional support the couple gave to each other. 

Upon their return home Abbey had needed some time to unwind and relax. So while she soaked in a luxurious bubble bath reading a book, Jed slid off his tie, took off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt to get down and play with his kids. He began to build houses with the twins' big blocks. Nicholas sat by his side patiently placing the blocks one on top of the other. Aislinn did not have her brother's patience and, instead, took gleeful delight in knocking down her father's masterpiece. 

"Aislinn Faith Bartlet, was that a nice thing to do?" he asked sternly. Aislinn giggled and crawled up into her father's lap. Using fistfuls of Jed's shirt, she lifted herself to a standing position so she could look right into his face and give him a drooling, toothless grin. 

"You are such a little attention getter." He kissed her sweet forehead, then looked up to see Nicholas balancing himself with only one hand on the coffee table. He tried handing Jed a block, but he was too far away. 

"Bring it here, son," Jed urged him. "Bring it to Daddy." Nicholas looked down at the block in his hand and held it back out for Jed to come and get. "Come on, Nick. Let's surprise Mama. Walk it over here to Daddy." Nicholas let go of the coffee table, put a step forward and promptly fell on his well-padded behind. 

By the time Abbey entered the room, having changed into jeans and a sweater, Jed and the babies sat in the middle of a room strewn with blocks. She rolled her eyes with frustration thinking that her husband was just as bad as the kids as far as messes went, but before she could complain to him about the mess they had made, she saw Jed pull their son to his feet. Nicholas gripped Jed's pointer fingers and began to take shaky steps. 

"Look at you," Abbey smiled and got down on her knees. "Is Daddy teaching you how to walk?" 

"Mama," Nicholas grinned and his little legs began to work harder to head towards Abbey. 

"Wait a minute, slugger." Jed slowed him down and picked up a block to give to Nicholas. "Bring this to Mama." He pulled his fingertip gently away and Nicholas stood alone. He was a little wobbly, at first, but he soon got the hang of it and steadied himself. Abbey stretched her arms out toward him and a smile of pure joy lit her face as Nicholas took his first unsteady steps toward her. After three steps, he fell into her arms, laughing with his accomplishment. 

"Here's my little hero." Abbey cuddled her son to her chest. It was a bittersweet moment. Her son had reached a milestone, but he had also just taken the first steps out of babyhood and into toddlerhood. His first steps into independence. Jed saw her glistening eyes and knew exactly what she was thinking. It had been this way with all the girls. 

"Abbey, he's a year old. He still needs his mommy." 

"I know that, Jed. It just goes so fast." 

"Well, this one won't be far behind." 

Abbey looked up to see Aislinn tottering beside her father, only holding on to one of his fingers. Abbey smiled watching her daughter trying to keep up with her "little" brother. Although Aislinn had spoken first, physically Nicky was the stronger of the two and definitely the more patient. She could almost see the years playing out ahead of them. Years of Aislinn trying to do everything her brother could do and Nicholas bearing it all with a patient smile. There were so many good years to look forward to. The first steps were just that – the first steps to the wonderful beginnings of childhood. 

* * * * 

The twins napped under the watchful eye of their elder sister Ellie. While Elizabeth and Zoey had taken their mother's assurance that she had not been hurt at face value, Ellie had not. She'd had to make the trip and see for herself that her mother was not just showing a stiff upper lip for the public. She and her mother had always shared a special bond and that had only been strengthened by Ellie's decision to follow her into medicine. While Ellie studied and listened for the kids, Abbey had taken the opportunity to take Aquinnah out for a ride. She had been surprised when Jed showed up in the barn asking to join her. Her husband had grown up on a farm and knew how to ride a horse very well, but it was not usually a recreation that he often chose to join her in. He had never truly understood his wife's and daughters' obsession with horseback riding. Yet, today, it was important for him to be with Abbey. They were going back to the White House tomorrow and he wanted to be good and sure that she was ready for that. 

Ron followed and watched the President and First Lady at a discreet distance. They were riding horseback side by side over the fields that sloped down to the bay, both wearing jeans and leather jackets. He watched the President lean over to talk to his wife and the way she laughed in response. It had been a long time since he had seen her laugh like that. With that laugh, a feeling of peace settled over him. The ambivalence over what he had done was gone. Watching this family healing was all the proof that he needed to see that he had done the right thing in making sure that Marcus Hughes never darkened their doorstep again. 

It was a gloriously sunny day and the warm hint of spring was in the air. Jed and Abbey walked their horses along the edge of the bay and Abbey inhaled deeply the earthy scents of mud and sea. Winter was over; the hiding out was over. She could move about with complete freedom and not fear that Hughes would find her wherever she went. Jed watched her out of the corner of his eye and finally broached the subject that had been heavy on his mind. 

"You must be feeling pretty raw today," he observed. 

"I am feeling a bit like a nerve that has been exposed," Abbey admitted. 

"I was thinking. If you want to stay here or go home to New Hampshire with the kids and lick your wounds in private for a while, I understand." 

Abbey reined Aquinnah in and looked at Jed. He wasn't looking back at her. Instead, he was staring out across Chesapeake Bay as if he found something infinitely interesting out on the water. Yet, she could see that his whole body was tense awaiting her response. 

"Jed," she said softly, "I don't want to hide out and lick my wounds anymore. It's over. I may feel raw for a little while to come, but do you know what I feel even more than that?" 

"What?" He turned to face her. 

"Free." She gave him a radiant smile. "I feel like a HUGE weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and for the first time in months I feel completely and totally FREE!" She kicked her heels into Aquinnah's side and the beautiful Arabian horse took off back up the hill at full gallop. "Race you to the barn," she called back over her shoulder. 

Jed grinned at the likeness between his wife and her choice in horses. Abbey was as high strung and temperamental as the Arabian and every bit as elegant, glamorous and classy. Her auburn hair fanned out in the wind behind her as she lifted her face to the sky. She looked like some kind of wild, pagan goddess. She looked exactly as she had said that she felt. Free. She was finally free. 


End file.
